Shards Of Fate
by Starway Man
Summary: Cordelia Chase was destined to die young. Xander Harris was destined to be nothing but the Zeppo. But what if that wasn't true? And what happens when you add Ethan Rayne into the mix? (COMPLETE)
1. Exodus

**Date written: **Sat 12 Apr 2014

**Authors:** Starway Man and Nodakskip

**Emails: **theop at hotkey dot net dot au, Nodakskip at aol dot com

**Disclaimer: **Joss and everyone else (the WB, UPN, ME, and whoever else) own everything related to Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel. Those parts of the story taken directly from the TV episodes belong to the writers in question. Anything else you recognize belongs to its various owners; including the movie _Groundhog Day_ (which belongs to Harold Ramis, Danny Rubin and Columbia Pictures, by the way). No profit will be made from this work, so please don't sue us. It wouldn't be fun for anyone concerned!

**Acknowledgments:** Thanks to Ironbear and Greywizard for beta'ing this fanfic. And we gotta give thanks to Buffyworld, too, for the transcripts consulted in the writing of this story.

**Feedback:** As they say, it's the coin of the realm. So please tell us what you thought of it.

**Rating: **Overall PG-13, but some R-rated stuff like violence and character death is present.

**Category: **AU, Action, Adventure, Angst, Romance

**Authors' notes: **This is a Buffy/Angel crossover fic where Cordelia doesn't die after the events of BtVS season 7/Angel season 4, even though some of the events of Angel season 5 do happen. There is nothing of the season 8 comics here, though; and as for the 'ships in this story, well, for those of you familiar with our prior work, it's doubtful you'll need to guess too hard who ends up with whom.

**Summary: **Cordelia Chase was destined to die young. Xander Harris was destined to be nothing but the Zeppo. But what if that wasn't true? And what happens when you add Ethan Rayne into the mix?

**Title:** Shards Of Fate

* * *

"Everyone forgets, Willow, that knowledge is the ultimate weapon."

(Xander Harris, BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER)

"I take crap from no one."

(Cordelia Chase, ANGEL)

"A reason to love and a reason to hate, a reason to know a reason to create, a reason to live the mighty life great, and a reason to leave is all our fate."

(Senora Roy, 2013)

* * *

**Part One: Exodus**

**Outside the remains of Sunnydale, southern California**

**May 20****th****, 2003**

Xander Harris blinked, staring at the newborn crater; which contained the sunken remains of his former home town, the one and only Sunnydale. { _Holy crap – I'm still alive! I didn't die. I can't __**believe**__ I didn't die..._ }

Standing next to him, Dawn Summers asked what the group what they were going to do next; but the one-eyed man paid no attention to her. Harris was too busy wondering how exactly the group had won their war against the malevolent entity known as the First Evil.

{ _We scrunched the First, sure, but – __**how**__ did we pull it off? By dropping the whole town on top of it? By getting rid of all its minions? Or was it something else?_ }

Harris honestly couldn't figure out the answer right now, what with the recent fight he had taken part in against the First Evil's Bringers and the über-vampires known as the Turok-Han. Xander suddenly started wondering if he had battle fatigue or something – all he could remember right now was a lot of screaming and running, just before Sunny-hell had imploded and the survivors of the battle had fled the scene in that big yellow school bus. No, wait, there was also...

{ _Oh sweet mothering Zeus, __**Anya**__..._ }

Straightaway, Xander forced himself not to think of his former fiancée, who had apparently died just before everyone had had to run for it. He figured that if he focused on Anya right now, he'd fall to pieces right here in front of everybody. And the former construction worker knew that he needed to keep it together for the moment, at least until they made it to wherever the hell they were going to go next.

Which sorta brought him back to Dawn's question just now...

"Yo, people. What now, what's the plan?" Faith Lehane's voice finally penetrated Xander's introspection.

"I don't know. I mean, does anybody have any ideas on what we should do next?" Willow Rosenberg asked.

"Well, we were planning on going shopping at the mall – but I guess that's no longer an option," Dawn's sister Buffy pointed at the crater. Then she sighed. "Anyone's got any ideas, let's hear 'em."

Xander looked around. It was just him, Dawn, Buffy, Willow, Faith and Rupert Giles gathered together. The rest of the Sunnydale survivors were all on, or near, the bus: Andrew Wells, the new Slayers and the badly-injured Robin Wood. { _Oh, yeah, geez. Talk about obvious!_ }

"Some of us need to get to a hospital." Harris gestured at Robin and some of the girls, who were sporting various injuries of various levels of severity. "And, like, pronto."

"He's right," Giles said, taking his glasses off and polishing them with a piece of white cloth he retrieved from one of his pockets. "That should be our first priority. But after that..."

"Just as long as we're not headin' straight for Cleveland, I'm happy," Faith interjected, sending Giles a warning look – after having heard the Englishman say something about another Hellmouth being located there, a few moments ago.

"Los Angeles," Buffy abruptly decided. "I sent Angel there to prepare a second front against the First, if it was needed. It's not, but I'm thinking his hotel should be our first stop after we see to the wounded."

"Good idea, Buffy," Willow agreed enthusiastically. "I've been there, and there's plenty of room for all of us to crash for a while."

"Guess that's settled, then. And, uh, hospital? Closest one is the Channel Islands Surgical Center; had myself a little souvenir visit, during my post-Graduation road trip. Any objections?" Harris asked, looking around.

There were none, and as soon as everyone was on board, the bus doors closed and the vehicle headed south as fast as it could go.

* * *

**Outside the Hyperion Hotel, Los Angeles**

**Later that night**

Stepping off the bus, Xander examined the hotel building in front of him. A cold chill suddenly crawled up his spine, and he shuddered for some reason he couldn't understand. Somehow, Harris could sense the bad vibes surrounding the Hyperion from the fallen Power named Jasmine and her worshippers, even if he knew nothing about all that – yet.

"What is it?" Dawn asked, as she came to stand beside her friend.

Xander continued to stare at the Hyperion. "I dunno, I just – I don't like this place, for some reason," he answered simply.

Dawn looked at Xander in concern. Ever since hearing that Anya had been killed earlier today, he'd been incredibly withdrawn and quiet. And the first thing he'd said since they'd left the hospital, was that he wasn't happy to be here? "How come you don't like Angel's hotel?"

Xander shrugged. "I have no idea, apart from the obvious..."

Dawn dismissed it as irrelevant for now, before tugging lightly on his shirt sleeve. "Come on. If we stand here much longer, we're going to miss all the excitement."

"Oh, yeah, the big reunion with Dead Boy and his people. This oughta be fun! Not," Xander said cynically.

"Oh, come on! I mean, don't tell me you're not looking forward to seeing Cordelia again?" Dawn smiled, thinking of her former role model from years gone by.

But to her surprise, Xander just sighed. "Gotta admit; mixed feelings on that one, Dawn. Haven't seen my ex-girlfriend in nearly four years – and we didn't exactly part under the best of circumstances, either."

"Huh?"

"Eh, never mind. Just think of it as the disaster that was my road trip after high school, not to mention my evil and sordid past," Xander shrugged. { _And seriously, how is possible that twenty-two plus change can feel so freaking __**old?!**_ }

Smiling tolerantly when Dawn took his hand into hers, Xander entered the main lobby of Hyperion Hotel, just behind the older Summers sister. And to Xander's lack of surprise, Buffy immediately had eyes only for one person.

"Buffy?" Angel said to his ex-girlfriend, looking amazed as all the Slayers who hadn't needed hospital treatment began to mill around in the lobby. "You're here..."

"And you've brought friends," Wesley Wyndam-Pryce said, nodding.

Buffy shrugged. "Yeah. Guess so. We prevented the apocalypse – again."

Angel frowned. "Then, not to be rude, but why are you here?"

"Well, would ya believe that right now, we got nowhere else to go?"

"Faith!" Angel and Wesley said together. But it was their friend, Winifred Burkle, who squealed and ran over to give the dark-haired Slayer a big hug. "Oh my God, Faith! Welcome back!"

"Hey, Fred," Faith reluctantly smiled and returned the hug, before extracting herself from the other woman's embrace. She wasn't exactly big on the whole hugging thing. But then Fred's ex-boyfriend, the black man named Charles Gunn, stepped in and gave her a welcoming hug, too.

Faith squirmed, feeling uncomfortable. "Man, what is with you guys wanting to hug me?"

"You're just so very hug-able?" Gunn smirked, letting go and stepping back. He liked the Slayer, both personally and professionally.

"Yeah, right," Faith smirked.

"So, how'd the apocalypse go on your end?" Angel asked Buffy, ignoring Faith for the moment.

"I sunk an entire city into the earth."

"That's nothing, I ended world peace."

Faith grinned at the ensouled vampire. "Wicked cool, big guy."

For some reason, that statement seemed to snap everyone out of whatever semi-stupor they'd fallen into. Introductions were made before Giles and Wesley started assigning roommates, taking a weapons inventory, and sending the able-bodied girls to help unload the wounded from the bus.

Dawn watched from the background, Xander still at her side. She said to him, "Should we offer to help?"

Harris gave her a half-hearted shrug, not seeing Cordelia anywhere around and briefly wondering where she was. { _Probably reading one of her fashion magazines. Or else criticizing someone's fashion sense, with her scathing, caustic, ego-destroying comments...huh, can't believe I've actually missed that!_ }

"Nah," Xander eventually responded to the teenager's question, before he grimaced. "You and me, Dawn, we're not exactly two of the Super Friends around here, so I figure we should leave all the heavy lifting to the Chosen crowd. Besides – I see a really comfy couch right over there, with our names on it."

Dawn brightened. "Cool. Hey, you think there's a TV in this place? Might help pass the time..."

Xander turned to face her. "Seriously, Dawn-ster? You think Sir Broods-A-Lot actually owns a TV? The guy so stuck in the past that, back in high school, he didn't even own a cell phone?"

Dawn blushed in embarrassment. "Oh. Yeah. Guess I wasn't thinking..."

* * *

**Xander's temporary room, Hyperion Hotel**

**An hour later**

There was a knock at the door. "Xander?"

"Come on in, Dawn-patrol."

Dawn did so. She found him sitting on the bed, more or less just staring at the wallpaper. "I was wondering where you were. What are you doin' in here, all alone?"

"Didn't exactly feel sociable," Xander exhaled, before turning to face the young woman.

"You've been crying," Dawn stated in concern, able to see the tear track running down Xander's cheek.

"Yeah. Anya," Xander sniffed for a moment. "I held out for as long as I could earlier today, but once I was alone, I just..."

Dawn never hesitated; she ran straight over to her former crush and hugged him tightly. "I'm sorry. Oh God, Xander – I'm so, _**so**_ sorry..."

"Not your fault, Dawnie," Harris murmured, stroking her hair and comforting her even as she tried to comfort him. "No one's fault, really. Sometimes, these things just happen too fast for anyone to stop it. That Caleb asshole and what he did to me, good example of that..."

The two sat in silence for a few moments, trying to let their emotions settle. And despite his words to his younger friend, Xander had to force himself to not to think of Andrew Wells, the man Anya had died for. Because otherwise – he might have tossed Dawn aside, hunted that nerd down and then brutally strangled him for surviving today's battle, while Anya hadn't.

Okay, maybe Harris had _**emotional issues**_ right now...

"Oh! Speaking of which – did you know that Anya gave me the sex talk, before I could stop her?" Dawn suddenly asked. As Xander's eye went wide, she elaborated, "Before we headed off for the school, she said that she figured that Mom would have never gotten around to it before she died, Buffy wouldn't be able to do it on account of she still treats me like I'm eight years old, and Willow would gloss over the important bits because she didn't drive stick anymore. I mean, I was like totally flabbergasted..."

Xander chuckled in genuine humor. Somehow, that seemed like such an _**Anya **_thing to say and do. "So, she really gave you the Talk?"

"You bet," Dawn answered. "After I stopped stammering, I decided I wanted to know everything, and so she told me. Blowjobs, kinks, vanilla, anal, the works. Oh, don't worry," she hastily reassured the former carpenter, "she didn't mention anything personal about you, or anything about the relationship you two had. She just told me everything she thought I ought to know, for when I finally meet Mr. Right."

{ _I'm sure Anya did._ } "Sweet Odin, but I miss her so much," Xander choked out.

"Yeah," Dawn whispered, as the tears she'd held back all day finally broke through. "Me, too."

* * *

**Main lobby, Hyperion Hotel**

**A short while later**

"So, the amulet Angel gave you killed all of the Turok-Han and collapsed the Hellmouth, by channeling a beam of sunlight through Spike?" Wesley asked in astonishment.

"Yeah," Buffy answered wearily. It hurt to think of that now, since at the last moment she had actually admitted to Spike that she loved him. Only for the British vampire to bluntly disagree, telling her that she didn't – but it was nice of her to say it. "That amulet thing burned him alive from the inside, while that laser beam thing-y did what it did. I saw Spike catch on fire before I finally ran for it." She paused. "Barely managed to jump onto the roof of that bus, and it only just escaped from being sucked down into that giant sinkhole..."

"Thank God you made it out alive," Angel shook his head in wonder and fear that Buffy might have been killed. Again.

"Yeah. Oooh! I bet that the authorities will explain away the sudden appearance of a huge crater like that, the same way they'll explain how world peace was briefly established – when Jasmine managed to televise her presence all over the world," Fred said knowingly. "With as big a lie as they can possibly make up!"

Angel immediately looked uncomfortable, as the conversation continued without him. Fred had unknowingly hit on a very sore point as far as he was concerned, with that 'making up a lie' thing; since Angel had done just that, by entering into a deal with the Senior Partners of Wolfram & Hart.

The evil and perverted deal in question had involved removing all knowledge of his suicidal and psychotic son named Connor from his friends' minds, after installing the boy into the Reilly family and giving him the one thing that the Miracle Child truly needed; a normal life, without any memory of being the son of two vampires.

Even if that had meant taking over the L.A. branch of the demonic law firm, and now having to answer to the Wolf, Ram & Hart...

"Yo, Angel? What's up?" Faith's voice suddenly intruded into the vampire's mind. She had just arrived from the second floor of the building, after making sure that all the new Slayers were settled into their rooms.

Angel looked up at her, briefly cursing himself for letting his emotions appear all over his face. { _Well, may as well as get this over with._ } "There's something I need to tell you, all of you."

"What?" Buffy asked at once.

"My friends and I...we're gonna be moving out of the hotel tomorrow. Don't worry, you can all stay here for as long as you like," Angel hastily reassured the Hellmouth contingent, many of whom immediately began to look nervous. "The place is yours for as long as you need it. It's just that me and my crew, we're heading off somewhere else."

"Well, thanks for that. But where ya going, if you don't mind my asking?" Faith asked, her eyes narrowing. She knew Angel well enough to tell when he was being evasive about something.

"Wolfram & Hart," Fred answered, after the vampire had remained silent for too long. "It's this big, evil law firm. But they totally caved after the last near-apocalypse, and gave us their branch here in Los Angeles. You should see the place! It's huge, even bigger than..."

"Been there. Seen it for myself, Fred," Faith replied in a flat tone. Then she turned back to Angel and said angrily, "Hey! Have you gone completely _**nuts**_ or what?! You suddenly decided to get into bed with Evil Incorporated? Have you forgotten that these are the same people who've been trying to take you down, since day one?! Or did the demon lawyers cast some sorta spell on you?"

"What?" Andrew asked, looking lost – but no one was paying any attention to him.

"Angel, what have you done?" Buffy demanded, a worried look appearing on her face.

"It's not as bad as she's making it sound, Buffy. Bottom line is, they lost and we won the latest battle in L.A. – after the Beast killed everyone there, they re-staffed the place, and then one of Wolfram & Hart's representatives turned the reins over to us. My friends and I are in charge there now," Angel replied, trying his best to remain calm.

Giles looked uneasy. "Still, Wolfram & Hart? If memory serves, they're a, a pan-dimensional organization run by a cabal of evil demons known as the, the 'Senior Partners'. Their sole purpose is to, to, to, to bring about the apocalypse, before, uh, taking over this dimension. Angel, a-a-are you telling us that you and your friends now work for _**them**_?"

"I haven't sold out or anything if that's what you're implying, Giles," Angel sent him a flinty look. "I'm just taking over their facilities, and using them for my own purposes. That's all."

Faith exhaled. On the one hand, she didn't want to stir up a proverbial hornet's nest so soon after arriving here; but on the other, she did think that Angel and his crew were making a big mistake. { _Damn it, why can't he see that? That place is gonna make him go evil again, probably straightaway! Geez, all we need now for history to repeat itself is..._ }

Not bothering to finish off that thought, Faith suddenly noticed a major absence within the group; someone who should have been part of this meeting...wasn't. "Hey, where's Xander?" She frowned, looking around at Buffy, Willow and Giles. "You guys didn't send him off on a doughnut run or something, did you?"

The Slayer, the witch and the ex-Watcher all swiveled their heads in surprise, looking as if they'd only just now noticed that Harris wasn't here. Faith's face darkened, as she quickly understood the situation. "Oh, you've _**got**_ to be shitting me – you people don't know where my old boy toy is right now?!"

Angel frowned, not understanding the Slayer's sudden anger. "Faith? Why the big concern?"

She turned to him, fists clenched. "Because Xander's ex, that Anya girl, she got killed during the battle today! And now he's all ALONE?! Holy fuck, I hope he hasn't done something _**stupid**_..."

"Calm down, Faith," Wesley spoke up. "Actually, I noticed Mr. Harris leaving the lobby a while ago. Just like I saw someone else leave not long afterwards, and head off in the direction of his room. Look around you; who else is missing?"

Willow sighed with relief, as she noticed who else was absent. "Dawn's with him," she told Buffy.

"Wes? Which room did you put Xander in?" Angel asked, he could tell that Buffy was now feeling very concerned about all this. And if she wanted to check up on her sister's whereabouts, she'd want to know where exactly in the hotel to go.

Wyndam-Pryce immediately looked uncomfortable. "Uh, I didn't actually...he, um, inadvertently chose Cordelia's old room, and I didn't think it was worthwhile asking the man to get out and stay in another part of building. Not under the current circumstances, anyway."

Angel didn't look happy about that, but then Faith realized someone else was missing from this little gathering. "So, where _**is**_ Cordelia? Vision Girl's still recovering from that attack by Angelus?"

{ _Angelus?_ } Buffy instantly knew there was a story there she hadn't heard, and she didn't miss the quick flash of sorrow in Angel's eyes. But then the vampire's face became an emotionless mask, as he drew in a deep, unneeded breath.

"Things sorta took a turn for the worse after you and Willow left for Sunnydale, Faith. Cordelia's currently in a coma; I've set her up in a private hospital, until she comes out of it," Angel replied to the Slayer's question. "_**If**_ she comes out of it."

Willow was genuinely shocked to hear that. "Cordelia's in a _**coma**_? But, but how'd that happen? I mean, the last time I saw her, all she had was a flesh wound – and she was getting better, although she was kinda thirsty for some reason. So, so, how'd she wind up in Coma-ville?"

"That's a long story," Wesley sighed, even though he no longer remembered even half of it. "One which involves a rogue Power birthing itself using her body as a vessel, and draining Cordelia of life force almost completely."

"Oh my Goddess – Cordy's a _**vegetable**_?" Willow yelped.

"Who are we talking about, exactly?" Andrew asked timidly, but again no one paid any attention to him.

"Tell me everything," Buffy demanded, and so Angel, Wesley, Gunn and Fred obliged to the best of their ability. Well, everyone apart from Angel did, anyway. The terrible and heartbreaking story concerning Jasmine was quickly recounted, and even though some details were omitted – like who was the father of Cordelia's baby – the tale was still enough to horrify the Hellmouth crowd. Ex-Hellmouth. Whatever.

"We can't tell Xander about this," Buffy decided, as soon as the saga was finished. "I mean, not yet – it's, it's too soon. If he heard about what's happened to Cordelia, right after losing Anya – well, God only knows what he might do!"

"Really? So you're deliberately gonna lie to him, about what happened to his former squeeze?" Faith asked cynically.

"No! Well, I mean..." Willow trailed off, torn between loyalty to her oldest friend and concern about his mental well-being.

"It's for his own good," Buffy said with firm, unshakeable conviction. "I've lost too many people today as it is, so I'm _**not**_gonna risk losing anyone else!"

"I agree," Giles said, nodding. "Xander doesn't need to know about all that, at least not right now. Not when there's nothing he can do to, to help that poor girl, anyway."

"Fine. If he asks, just tell Xander that Cordy's on vacation with Groo," Angel suggested uncaringly.

"Who's Groo?" Buffy wanted to know.

"Uh, the Pylean ex-boyfriend. Xander's mentioned him before, Cordy wrote about him in her letters a few times. Yeah, I...I think he'd buy it, at least for a while," Willow said hesitantly.

Unable to stand listening to this anymore, Faith quickly left and went upstairs, taking the steps two at a time. Curiously, no one followed her as the Slayer headed for Xander's temporary room. The young woman was ready to blurt out the truth, as she yanked open the door –

And then abruptly stopped, as she saw Xander and Dawn asleep together on Cordelia's bed. The stress and weariness from the day's events had finally caught up with the two normal members of the group, and they were now sound asleep. Fully clothed, too, a small part of Faith's mind was surprised to note – recalling a certain evening nearly four and a half years ago, where Xander had demonstrated just how eager he was for sex under stressful situations.

Still, that was then and this was now. People change, and Faith Lehane knew that all too well.

{ _Gonna have to talk to Xander tomorrow, since the others aren't gonna be in share mode about Queen C, _} the dark-haired Slayer decided, as she quietly shut the door behind her. { _Because no way __**I'm**__ gonna be part of that sort of crap..._ }

Unfortunately, though, it didn't work out the way Faith planned.

She never managed to talk to Xander in private the next day; what with Wood's abdominal wound, and one that had developed life-threatening complications at that, there was simply no opportunity for her to do so. The doctors had had to resection Robin's intestines, sew up a couple of internal organs, monitor him for internal hemorrhaging and infections (the man's bowels had ended up very messy, unfortunately) and keep a very close eye on him.

So what with donating blood and watching over her boyfriend, Faith completely forgot to tell Xander what had happened where Cordelia Chase was concerned –

As in, she forgot _**completely**_. Maybe it was the work of a higher power, maybe it wasn't; but either way, over the next few months, the thought never even crossed Faith's mind to tell Xander what had happened where the Seer was concerned.

Not to mention, Harris had his own concerns, which effectively kept _**him**_ away from Faith as well. Insurance claims, visits to government departments, disaster relief applications, mountains of paperwork...there was also Anya's insurance and will, dealing with the investigators who wanted to know what had happened to her...not to mention the insurance on his parents' house, and trying to find out where his mom and dad were. Plus, Xander had his own ongoing medical care to deal with; it hadn't been that long since his left eye had been gouged out by Caleb, after all.

For his part, Giles started flying back and forth from London to the U.S. a lot as Buffy took roughly half of the Slayers with her to Cleveland, along with Dawn and Xander, as soon as it was feasible for her to do so. There were a number of reasons why the eldest Slayer did that, including wanting to get away from southern California and all the bad memories associated with it. But her primary motive was dealing with the active Hellmouth, which had shifted to Ohio. And thanks to a big bankroll from Angel – something that Xander loudly disagreed with in no uncertain terms, but since beggars couldn't be choosers, his opinion was summarily ignored by the alpha Slayer – Buffy and co. ended up in Drew Carey country, and far away from Los Angeles.

Busy with her invalid boyfriend and now also the de facto head of L.A. operations, Faith kept the rest of the newbies (along with Willow and Robin) with her in the City of Angels. She too disliked accepting money from Angel, not so much because her mentor was offering to help out – but because the source of that money (namely, Wolfram & Hart) _**offended**_ her greatly. Still, Faith gave in and accepted the financial aid, because, as Angel put it:

"Where are you going to house all of your Slayers, Faith? Don't tell me you and all those girls were planning to sleep in that school bus? Plus, how were you planning to feed all of them? Not to mention yourself? What are you going to use for gas money? And what about the underage girls who should be in school, after the summer's over? Come on, you're being ridiculous and you know it!"

She knew no such thing – but oddly enough, almost immediately afterwards Faith was attacked by a Serpavo demon, with the resultant wounds bad enough to hospitalize her alongside Robin. And not that she believed in karma (at least, not anymore), but the irony of being injured by a client of the law firm while she was using its money? Definitely not lost on the Boston-born Slayer.

Thanks to the demon's poisoned blade, it took roughly a week for Faith to fully recover – but after she did so, and after the huge mess from Sunnydale imploding was _**finally **_sorted out, Buffy, Dawn, Andrew and Xander joined Giles in England while she, Robin and the L.A. Slayers took over policing the Cleveland Hellmouth.

And all the while, Xander never even suspected Cordelia was vegetating in a coma...

* * *

**Two miles south of the Sunnydale crater, southern California**

**June 3****rd****, 2003**

Bloody and battered, Ethan Rayne fell flat on his face after being shoved into his new cell by the jammy bastards who'd sent him to Nevada for 'rehabilitation', over three years ago.

Up until the year 2000, Ethan had been a very skilled chaos-worshipping wizard from Rupert Giles' troubled past, an enemy of the Scooby Gang, and a magical subcontractor who performed odd jobs for demons and humans alike. He'd liked causing chaos, either for money or his own pleasure. Unfortunately, one of those pleasure-related 'pranks' had involved turning Giles into a Fyarl demon, which had led to his arrest and incarceration by a group then known as the Initiative.

To be honest, Ethan hadn't anticipated being held captive like this for so long. And he also hadn't anticipated being beaten up so badly during his recent interrogation by the new man in charge of this facility; Colonel Martin Ellis, or whatever his name was.

{ _Stupid bloody git,_ } Ethan thought to himself, rubbing his bleeding nose where the military officer had viciously punched him in order to make Rayne cough up information. { _And it's only going to get worse from this point on, I can tell. Maybe I'm done for. Maybe my luck's finally run out..._ }

But at that moment, something like an information dump appeared in Ethan's brain and he gasped in pure shock.

As the previously repressed knowledge spilled into his conscious mind, Ethan couldn't help but admire his own foresight and preparations against disaster. It was his ultimate contingency plan; something for when all hope was lost, something that had been hidden even from himself until he'd needed it.

Curiously, the Wolfram & Hart mages he'd dealt with seven years ago hadn't understood his request, even though they'd done what he'd contracted for them to do. They themselves had had no use for a soul-scraping spell of the type he'd specified. Most of them didn't even _**have**_ a soul in the first place, and those that did would never purposefully damage their own essence in such a manner.

Under normal circumstances he wouldn't either, but then, Ethan knew this was no normal circumstance. He had to do it; the next time, the olive-clad berk would kill him after losing his temper. Ellis had been _**that**_ pissed off just now.

"Chaos. I remain, as ever, thy faithful, degenerate son." Ethan got up on his knees and began to pray. "For this world that denies thee, thou nonetheless inhabit..."

He felt the mystical energy swirl around the pit of his stomach, as the spell began. Carefully he pressed his hands together, the palms becoming wet and bloody. Rayne dabbed his right middle finger on his left palm and brought it up to his right eye, smearing his blood onto his right eyelid.

"And the peace that ignores thee," Ethan continued and brought his left middle finger to his right palm and then likewise smeared his blood on his left eyelid. "Thou continually corrupt," he whispered.

"Chaos. Accept this, my willing sacrifice, and deliver thy faithful servant from his bondage. Chaos! I summon thee – and _**thy will be done**_!"

Now, the funny thing about magic is that it requires quite a number of things for a practitioner to pull it off successfully. Intent, visualization, and will, for example. Power and belief as well. But most important of all;_** sacrifice**_.

That was the miracle ingredient as far as magic was concerned; something without which no spell would work. The mystical cost could vary from all the hours spent learning the craft to human virgin sacrifice itself, but –

All magic required sacrifice of some sort. The greater the sacrifice, the greater the effect; and right now, one hell of an effect (and hence sacrifice) was needed.

Ethan suddenly screamed in agony as a fragment of his soul was ripped away from the main part of his essence, thanks to his spell. He briefly had a vision of a chaos monster, a primordial goddess of the ocean, as a Name flickered across his consciousness –

– _**Tiamat **_–

There was pure agony, as the Chaos deity fed upon the fragment of Ethan's soul. And then, under the auspices of the greater god (whom Ethan had considered asking six years ago to empower his Halloween spell, before screwing up and calling upon Janus instead), Rayne felt like he was rising up, somehow. Even though, at the same time, he wasn't moving an inch. The agony abruptly ceased –

Ethan fell roughly two feet, and hit the ground with a loud thump. "Ow!" he muttered, automatically beginning to look around towards the cell door, to see if his jailers were coming.

Except, he was no longer _**in **_his cell. Instead, Rayne was lying on the cold tarmac, almost exactly where the school bus had come to a stop after escaping the destruction of Sunnydale.

Ethan started laughing madly. "It worked? It _**worked**_!" He got up, reveling in his freedom. "I'm free! All praise unto thee, o Chaos!"

And as he hobbled off into the night as quickly as he could, Ethan began to plan his revenge on those he considered his enemies...

But curiously, he had no idea where the train of events he had set into motion would eventually lead him – and everyone else on the planet.

TBC...


	2. Judgment

See Part One for disclaimer and details. Thanks to everyone who's read and/or reviewed this story so far, please keep it coming! We're review junkies, so we want to hear what you think of this fic; good and/or bad. So once you get to the end of the chapter, you know what to do!

* * *

**Part Two: Judgment**

**Restricted area of the coma ward, Wolfram & Hart private hospital**

**June 8****th****, 2003**

Trying to ignore the irritating beeping noises coming from the machinery which the Seer was hooked up to, Angel made a mental note to tell the nurses here to trim Cordelia's nails and wash her hair. He then wondered what she would make of all of the changes in everyone's lives, had the comatose woman been awake right now.

"Cordelia, I'm told that hearing is the last sense to go in comatose people. So I'm hoping you can still hear me, somehow..." Angel sat by the bed, and clasped her hand.

"Uh, things have gotten kinda weird over the past three weeks, I guess. Like, I'm running Wolfram & Hart now. Wesley's almost become a recluse, what with all the books and scrolls and everything else he's got access to again. Gunn's become a lawyer, odd as _**that **_sounds. And Fred's started devoting all her time to fixing Spike – he's back and hanging around as a ghost, somehow. Still not sure I know exactly what's going on with that, to be honest. Okay, Lorne, he's in Entertainment Heaven – not exactly a big surprise there, obviously. But as for Connor..."

Angel broke off, mentally cursing. He had recently spoken with his new liaison to the Senior Partners, the woman named Eve, about that particular forbidden subject. Apparently only Eve, he himself and whatever dark sorcerer had conjured that new life for his son could recall the Miracle Child any longer. This meant that Angel couldn't talk to anyone about Connor anymore; or at least, not anyone with whom he cared to discuss the subject.

The new CEO of Evil, Inc. glanced down at the sleeping woman. If Cordelia ever woke up, he wondered, would she remember Connor? Hopefully, yes. Still, what would she remember if the mage's spell hadn't affected her, due to her comatose nature? The cute and innocent baby Connor had once been? The sullen teenager he'd become, after Quor-toth?

And it wasn't just that – would Cordelia remember sleeping with his son, while she was possessed by the Beastmaster? Would she remember giving birth to Jasmine? How much would she recall of what had happened, after coming back from the Higher Realms?

Worst case scenario, if she ever woke up – would Cordelia still be as evil as she'd been right before Jasmine's birth, or the good woman he'd grown to love? Both as a friend, and something more...

A blazing, white-hot rage at the unfairness of it all briefly washed over Angel, before he pseudo-sighed in defeat. "I've got work to do, I guess – I better go. G'bye, Cordy. I'll come see you again soon, I promise."

"Hello, Angel. I thought I'd find you here!"

The now-familiar female voice came from behind him, and Angel went still. Before he whirled around, grabbed Eve by the throat and slammed her hard against the nearest wall, her feet dangling inches off the floor. "What are you doing here?"

Eve gurgled incoherently. So Angel said, "I thought as much; there's _**no reason**_ for you to be here in Cordelia's hospital room. So, lemme explain how it's going to be from now on in a way that you can understand, Eve – you come in here again, ever...either in person, or by any sort of proxy...and I'll rip you into so many pieces that not even the Senior Partners will ever be able to put you back together again. Got it?"

The woman's gaze was terrified and she nodded, or at least as much as she could with the vampire's hand around her neck. Angel abruptly let her go, and Eve collapsed to the floor, gasping loudly. Eventually she managed to get her breath back to say, "Well, now that the requisite display of testosterone is over..."

"What is it?" Angel demanded brusquely, not offering to help her up as Eve slowly got back on her feet.

"You're needed back at the office. Apparently, it's rather urgent." Eve rubbed her throat, and added, "You shutting down the grave-robbing department of the firm yesterday, it's upset quite a few people; including one of our stockholders named Magnus Hainsley. He's a necromancer, by the way..."

Feeling concerned, Angel immediately grabbed Eve and yanked her out of the room along with him. And Cordelia continued to lay unmoving on her bed, trapped within her own comatose body.

* * *

**Not far from the Ramada East Motel, Anaheim**

**The same time**

As Riley Finn pulled off the Interstate-5 and headed for the nondescript motel, he couldn't help wondering what the heck he was really doing here, undertaking the start of yet another demon-hunting op – when he should have been at home with his family, relaxing for the weekend.

Once a member of the Scooby Gang and a member of the Initiative unit based in Sunnydale, Riley had had quite a number of up's and down's in his life. On the positive side, he had at one point been Buffy's boyfriend, and he'd had a mission to keep the world safe along with his comrades-in-arms. He'd had good friends in Willow and Xander and Giles, and he had become the husband of a woman named Samantha and the father of a son named Forrest.

But on the negative side, not all that long ago he'd been a drug addict, thanks to the machinations of a woman named Maggie Walsh. He'd lost many of his men, thanks to an evil cyber-demonoid named ADAM. He'd had feelings of inadequacy, not being able to keep up with his Slayer girlfriend – along with her refusing to let him in to help, after Buffy's mother had become ill.

Plus, of course, Finn had a job that was very likely going to get him killed, sooner or later.

{ _I've got to get back into the normal chain of command. And the sooner the better,_ } Riley thought to himself, as he parked his car and headed for the reception area. { _I've got other responsibilities now, damn it. Yeah, that's it; once this assignment is over, I'm putting in for a transfer out of black ops. And sorry, Buffy – but the next time you need help with that asshole, Spike? You're on your own..._ }

Acting like a harmless tourist, Riley paid for his pre-booked one-bedroom unit for the night, and then waited there for his contact to arrive. According to the parameters of the Black Protocol, under which this operation had been set up, he was supposed to wait here for his superior to arrive and give him orders and instructions. And he didn't have long to wait before someone knocked on the door, and entered the room without waiting for a 'come in!' or anything like that.

"Sir!" Riley immediately snapped to attention and saluted, after the man wearing civilian clothes came in. He recognized his former commander, the man who had recruited him for a Code One mission to Belize along with his old friend, Graham Miller. "Major Ellis..."

"It's Colonel Ellis now, and at ease, Finn. Good to see you again, it's been a while," the middle-aged man had a slight smile on his face as Riley went into a parade rest stance. "All right, I got your Black-level request to meet with you here. Now, what is it that's so important that we needed to talk face-to-face like this?"

"Sir?" Riley immediately looked confused. "I don't understand; I received Black Protocol orders to meet here with a superior officer – I'm assuming that's you – for my latest mission..."

Captain Riley Finn trailed off, before both he and Colonel Ellis came to the same conclusion at the exact same time – and did an almost-perfect Admiral Ackbar impersonation. "It's a trap!"

Neither of them made it anywhere near the door, before the hotel room exploded.

* * *

**Across the street from the Ramada East Motel, Anaheim**

**Roughly a minute earlier**

{ _Ah, computers,_ } Ethan Rayne thought to himself cynically, as he watched Colonel Ellis's car enter the parking lot. He then witnessed the military officer head into the reception area, to determine which room he needed to find in order to make his rendezvous. { _Computers are like children, really. All you have to do is know the right codes, and then they'll do whatever you ask of them. And there are disenfranchised hackers everywhere nowadays; who would have thought it, three years ago..._ }

A few moments later, Rayne saw Ellis exit the reception area and head to the room he had selected for the killing zone. Smirking to himself, Ethan thought, { _It's a pity I won't be able to see their faces when the big moment comes. But then, life's full of disappointments, isn't it? Captain Finn, no doubt you'll disappoint your family by not being there for them, in the years to come – and Colonel Ellis, I'm sure you'll disappoint your peers over not being able to show them how to properly beat up prisoners..._ }

Then the moment came. Ellis knocked on the door and then entered the room, without waiting for an invitation. Ethan did a slow count to three, and then pushed a button.

_**Ka-BOOM!**_

The entire west side of the motel blew up with a loud roar, and a huge gout of flame and plumes of dust.

{ _Good grief,_ } Ethan thought to himself in amazement, his ears ringing as he took in the spectacle. { _What did my subcontractor use for the explosives I planted in that room, nitroglycerin?_ }

But then Rayne shrugged to himself, ignoring the bits of brick and mortar and a thin red film of the dead men that began to rain down onto the ground. { _Then again, who am I to complain? And what's that charming expression the colonials like to use over here...ah, yes – there's no such thing as overkill, or some such phrase..._ }

* * *

**Harris residence, Knightsbridge**

**August 28****th****, 2003**

Months later in London, Xander was sound asleep in his bed after a hard day's work.

Ever since that hasty departure from Los Angeles, he had been an extremely busy man. Helping rebuild the Council, and dealing with the remnants of its old guard, hadn't been as easy and simple as he'd initially assumed it would be. Naturally not; there were lots of Slayers after the mass activation, but damned few people left to guide and train them properly. Thus, part of his work had been recruitment – _**and**_ weeding out the individuals who still viewed the Chosen as a resource to be exploited in pursuit of their own personal power.

It was often a dirty and thankless job, but someone had to do it, and just his luck how that 'someone' had turned out to be him.

Xander's one remaining eye suddenly snapped open, and he slowly and carefully got up out of bed. Walking slowly, Harris went to the bedroom closet and opened it. And after he did so, Xander stepped into another world. The Sunnydale Bison's Lodge of the past.

It was just as he remembered it during that rainy day, nearly a year and a half ago; the big, wide hall was filled with pews of chairs for the wedding guests. Flowers planted here and there hung or stood in strategic positions, and the front of the room was set up for the wedding ceremony with a makeshift altar.

This was his wedding day. His and Anya's.

{ _Ahn, where are you?_ } Xander thought to himself urgently, suddenly realizing he was no longer wearing pajamas; but rather the tightly-fitting tuxedo he had worn for the special occasion. { _Damn it, this time I'm gonna make the __**right**__ choice... _}

"No, you won't. You can't. This is just a dream, Xander."

Harris whirled around, and there she was – his intended bride. Anya Christina Emanuella Jenkins. She was wearing her wedding dress – that white, strapless, fitted down to the knees then flaring out into the train, hideously expensive wedding dress.

Xander thought she had never looked more beautiful. "Marry me. Right here, right now!"

Anya – or the dream representation of her, anyway – shook her head. "Even if I said yes, there'd be no point. Xander, I'm dead-"

"_**But I don't want you to be!**_" Harris suddenly yelled at the top of his voice, months of loneliness and frustration suddenly pouring out in his voice. "I can't _**stand**_ the fact that you got killed that day! I want to bring you back, damn it!"

"Really? After what happened with Buffy, when you did that? You actually hate the real me that much?"

Xander shook his head in annoyance. "Of course I don't hate you – her – uh, whatever! That's not what I meant-"

"It's not what you meant to say, sure, but it's what your saying _**means**_. And deep down, you know that," 'Anya' cut him off sternly. "Plus, one time when she was addressing the cannon fodder – sorry, the Potentials – Faith said, 'You wanna know what the definition of insanity is? Performing the same task over and over, and expecting different results every time.' That's why you're sounding completely cuckoo to me!"

Xander honestly didn't know what to say in reply. 'Anya' was not only right, but arguing with a dream seemed pretty pointless, even to him. Eventually he stammered, "What am I supposed to do without you, Ahn? How am I supposed to cope with you being dead?"

"That's simple. Not easy – simple and easy aren't the same thing, obviously – but still, fairly straightforward. You have to let go," the dream version of Anya said candidly. "The same way Willow eventually let go of Tara. Keep the memories of me, but move on. You need to find someone else, now, to spend the rest of your life with."

"I don't want to do that," Xander said stubbornly.

"Well, what's the alternative? Growing old alone? Constantly dreaming about what you've lost like this, for the rest of your miserable, lonely life?" 'Anya' asked reasonably. "Xander, you're not even twenty-three years old yet. For Yekk's sake, you still have lots of time to find-"

"I don't want anyone else! I want you!" Xander said hotly.

"But I'm just a dream – and as for the real Anya Jenkins? We've already had this conversation! Like it or not you can't have her anymore, not _**that**_ way," 'Anya' replied, a note of exasperation creeping into her voice. "Well, unless you were planning to drink yourself into an early grave or something..."

"Hey!" Xander jerked backwards, like an affronted cat.

"What?" the dream version of Anya demanded, coming forward. "Like I told you before, I'm not the real deal – I'm just part of your subconscious, dummy. I know everything you do; like the temptation to start binge drinking, the way you did after the...wedding that wasn't." She gestured around the empty hall symbolically.

Even though his parents had vanished out of his life completely by this point, Xander still had issues regarding his inner Anthony Harris. About becoming an alcoholic, and everything else that was part and parcel of the family legacy. "I'm not gonna turn into my father. No way," he muttered, looking down and away.

"Oh, yeah, I know that," 'Anya' nodded. "I mean, you made that promise to that Cordelia girl way back when; and so far, you've kept it."

"Cordelia?" Xander looked a little confused by the mention of the Seer. "What's she got to do with this?"

Abruptly, 'Anya' morphed into the image of Buffy. The blonde Slayer was wearing the same clothes she'd had on in Angel's hotel, after the Hellmouth had gone ker-blooey – and she told him, "Your ex-girlfriend? Like I said, she's on vacation with that Groo guy."

"Right..." Xander said the least bit uncertainly, as 'Buffy' turned into 'Willow'.

"You've been pushing yourself too hard, Xander," the redhead said earnestly. Like the Slayer before her, 'Willow' was wearing the same clothes she'd had on the day that Sunnydale had ceased to exist. "Throwing yourself completely into your work, and trying not to think of anything else. Especially Cordy."

"Huh? No, I haven't!" Xander cocked his head slightly. "Will, what brought all this on?"

'Willow' abruptly transformed into 'Faith'. A very sexy-looking Faith, who appeared younger than the last time he'd seen her; this version of the dark-haired Slayer looked like she had done back in high school, with her red wife-beater and a pair of black leather jeans and motorcycle boots. "Been a while, hasn't it? Since Queen C went on vacation with her ex-beefcake, I mean. And hey – how many girls you know who do that, stud? Plus it's been over a year, nearly two, and no letters. Not a single one. You tell me, what does that say about the situation?"

"Faith? What are you trying to tell me?" Xander was starting to get a very bad feeling about all this, and not just because he didn't get why the dream had veered off in this unexpected direction.

'Faith' vanished and 'Dawn' appeared in her place. An older-looking Dawn, oddly enough, who looked to be in her mid-twenties or thereabouts, and who was wearing a smart-looking business suit. "You told me once that you see more than anybody realizes. And then I told you that that's your power. Seeing. Knowing. Think about it, Xander; what can you see now? What do you _**know**_ now?"

"That something's wrong," Xander finally appeared to get it, as his subconscious (in the form of Dawn) heaved a sigh of relief. "Something's wrong...with Cordelia..."

Without warning, 'Dawn' changed into 'Cordelia'. But not the older version with peroxide-blonde hair; rather, the brunette Xander had known in high school, until just after the twelfth grade. She was wearing a Princess Leia slave girl costume; that classic metallic-gold bikini which Carrie Fisher had worn in _Return of the Jedi_, and which had been burned into the sweaty subconscious of an entire generation of fan-boys since 1983.

Well, as a teenager Xander had been quite the sci-fi nerd, after all...

"Help me, Obi-Xan, you're my only hope!" the image of his ex-girlfriend pleaded, from the murky depths of Harris's brain – where instinct and hunches and his inner geek reigned supreme.

"Uhhh!" Xander abruptly woke up with a jerk, his head rising up off of the pillow in consternation. His heart pounding madly and his breath coming in short, painful gasps, Harris could easily remember every detail of the dream he'd just had – and he now knew that something was, indeed, _**very **_wrong...

* * *

**Café Greco on Via dei Condotti, Rome**

**September 23****rd****, 2003**

Roughly a month later – on the eve of the autumn equinox, curiously enough – Xander sat alone at the tourist café, watching Buffy Summers depart into the huge crowd frequenting one of the most popular Roman fashion districts.

For a couple of days now, Buffy had been in the Eternal City, saying that she needed to take care of some business here. It was only temporary, because Dawn had been enrolled into a private high school in London to get her GCSE, and so her big sister had to stay in England as well. Xander had been living with Dawn in Buffy's absence, until she'd told him in no uncertain terms that she was over seventeen years old – and that she didn't need a babysitter to look after her any longer.

Xander had thought about it before he'd shrugged and accepted that, recalling how at Dawn's age he hadn't needed one, either. And besides – everyone was too busy or too far away to do that kind of thing nowadays, anyway. Giles and Andrew were handling Council operations for the United Kingdom, Buffy was in charge of the European theatre, Robin and his ex-girlfriend Faith were looking after North America, and Willow and her girlfriend Kennedy had decided to take on South America.

This had left Africa for Xander to deal with, if he wanted to accept it.

Not exactly the greatest continent to be responsible for, unfortunately. In between all the civil wars and famine and vast distances to cover, there were also the problems associated with the language barriers and the attitude of the locals towards a white man, human and demon both. More than once, Xander had suspected that Giles had wanted to assign him to the Dark Continent because no one else in their little group wanted the headaches associated with the place.

Under different circumstances, he might have said yes. But not here, and not now. Not after Harris had gotten one of the tech guys in the Council to hack into Wolfram & Hart's L.A. branch emails. Not after he had found out the truth; that everyone he trusted had lied to him about what had happened to Cordelia.

Well, not entirely everyone. Xander was sure that Dawn didn't know the truth, from the remarks she'd made when he'd brought up the subject of his old girlfriend. However, everyone else knew; even Andrew, from the way he'd stammered and then changed the subject when Cordelia's name had been casually mentioned in conversation.

It had been a bitter pill to swallow, that went without saying. But after he could think straight again, Xander had started wondering what the hell he could do to help the comatose woman in question. According to the emails being sent to Angel, the doctors at that L.A. hospital were doing everything they could to awaken Cordelia, but with no success. So there was nothing he could accomplish by going there to see her in person, other than just stand around and look like an idiot.

But then, Harris had gotten an idea. If the mundane was out, why not try the mystical? If Spike had gone to Africa and gotten himself a soul, why couldn't he do the same thing? Well, not get a soul, of course, or even visit that particular cave-demon in Senegal; from what Xander recalled of the British vampire's babbling last year, that whole "make me what I was" thing sounded more like a demand to get rid of the chip, and Captain Peroxide had been totally screwed over right at the end...

No, Xander figured that he would find someone else in his quest to help Cordelia. There were reports of a powerful shaman within the Council's archives he had perused, one who lived somewhere on the east coast of the continent, as well as other accounts of supernatural beings who might be able to give him what he wanted. He would find someone he could trust to help him, no matter how long it took.

But maybe it hadn't been the smartest idea in the world talking to Buffy today, before he did that –

Getting up slowly, Xander brought out some euros and dropped them onto the table, making sure to leave a generous tip. He then walked away from the café, his shoulders hunched, as if he had the weight of the world riding on his shoulders. Harris headed for the Hotel Condotti, his temporary accommodations, and the concierge greeted him at the front desk.

"Buongiorno, Signor Harris. Is there anything I can do to be of assistance to you?" the Italian asked in thickly accented English.

"Yeah. I need a video camera and a tripod delivered to my room, I need to record a message for someone. Can you arrange that?" Xander asked.

"Si," the concierge replied, nodding his head. "It shall be done within fifteen minutes. Will there be anything else?"

"Yeah. Prepare my bill; I'm gonna be checking out as soon as I'm done with the video recording," Xander said musingly.

"Certainly, signore. It was my understanding that you would be staying on for a while longer, though, before your return to London?" the hotel employee asked.

"Change of plan. And, uh, grazie," Xander said, using one of the few Italian words he knew.

"Prego, Signor Harris."

Xander nodded, before walking off and leaving the other man behind. And money talks, especially the old money of the Watchers Council; thus, pretty soon, the video camera was set up and ready to record.

"Hey, everyone, it's me. Xander," Harris said, looking straight into the camera lens. "And if you're watching this, that means I'm either in a coma, or dead, or...whatever. A couple of things before we get into that, though – first of all...as of today, September 23rd, 2003, I hereby officially quit working for the Council of Watchers of Great Britain. This is my choice, and the reason I'm doing this is because I want to do something _**right **_after all the...crap, during the past seven years. I know I might die doing it, but strangely enough...that doesn't seem to matter all that much, at this point..."

* * *

**The domain of the Conduit, Los Angeles**

**January 23****rd****, 2004**

Pain.

That was all that Xander Harris knew and felt, as the energies of the Conduit to the Powers That Be buffeted him mercilessly. He had arrived in its presence after getting the address from a shaman in Zanzibar, and learning of _**all**_ the horrors that had befallen his former girlfriend from that African witch doctor.

Also, he had learned that she was fated to die very soon; so if he didn't do something quick, Cordelia Chase was doomed in every sense of the word.

Unsurprisingly, Xander's meeting with the Conduit hadn't exactly gone well. Still, he had managed to get the invisible and/or formless entity to at least listen to his request – and as he fell through the portal which it had opened up, Xander managed to roll and tuck his head so as not to smash it open as he landed on the hard stone floor. { _Ow, ow, ow!_ }

"Good evening, sir, and welcome. I shall be assisting you with preparing for the trials this evening."

"Great. Wait, trials?" Harris inquired, looking up the middle-aged man dressed as a butler and speaking with a British accent.

"Indeed, sir. In order to petition the Powers That Be to save Ms. Chase from upcoming death, you must first prove yourself worthy to enter their presence. Didn't the Conduit explain that?" the butler asked politely, as Harris got up off the floor.

"No," Xander said, before he heard a low growl coming from the closed gate behind him. "Uh – what was that?"

"Your first challenge, sir. Your trials will consist of three separate challenges. But before we begin, I'll need your shirt and socks and shoes."

"And if I say no?"

The butler shrugged. "You automatically fail the trials, sir, and Ms. Chase's current fate will unfortunately be sealed."

"Terrific." Grumbling, Xander took off his shirt and socks and shoes, and handed them over. He said to the butler, "Okay, Jeeves, mind if I ask a couple of questions?"

"You'll have to make it quick, sir. In a few moments, it won't be safe for anyone in here. Not even me."

"Wonderful. Well, what's this first test about, and how many people have passed it before me?" Harris asked, as another growl erupted from behind the gate.

"Only one person, and as for the challenge itself, it's fairly simple. Once that gate opens, all you have to do is walk through it," Jeeves said politely.

"But there's something I have to get past first, right?"

"Yes, but that's all I'm allowed to say. Good luck, sir."

Jeeves disappeared, the air briefly shimmering. The gate subsequently rose and an ugly green demon, carrying a wicked-looking sword strapped to its back and a chain wrapped around its right arm, walked in before the gate closed again.

"I knew I should have asked if I could have a weapon..." Xander ducked and weaved around the demon's length of chain desperately, angering the hulking beast. Harris knew he was totally outclassed in terms of speed, cunning, strength, and skill, and so had to hope he could get the creature angry enough that it would make a mistake. That was his only chance to survive and get through the gate.

Against all the odds, his plan actually worked. Over-extending its reach, the demon wrapped its chain around one of the pillars, giving Harris the opportunity to escape its grasp. The demon roared, and as he ran Xander stumbled (stupid 20/0 vision, no depth perception anymore) and fell flat on his face.

Which was actually all for the best, funnily enough, as otherwise the demon's sword would have ended up right in the middle of his back instead of embedding itself into the wall.

Quickly pushing himself up to his feet, Xander ran for the wall, yanked the sword out and using every scrap of strength he had, the man swung the weapon wildly – and, somehow, it cut the demon in half before he let the blade drop to the floor. { _Huh. How the hell did I pull that off? Oh, right, betcha that it's an enchanted sword or something..._ }

The creature twitched once, and died with a loud gasp before the gate opened. Not long afterwards, Xander discarded the sword in order for the gate to _**stay**_ open. Every time he picked up the demon's weapon, the gate slammed shut again, so eventually Harris got the hint. { _Of course. It wouldn't do for me to actually have a chance of defending myself during these so-called trials, would it?_ }

"One down, two to go..." he muttered. "Wonder what's next?"

Stepping through the gate, Xander arrived into a long, dark corridor. About halfway down was a basin on a pedestal. Harris also saw a large door at the other end of the corridor. { _Hmm, looks like all I have to do is get from point A to point B. Betcha I can't just walk straight across, though. Way too simple; there's gotta be a catch of some sort._ }

Shrugging to himself, Harris took one step forward...

"OWWW!"

He jumped back, rubbing his right foot. { _What the-? Oh, now I get it. Heat panels. On the floor, and probably..._ } Xander tested the walls with right hand, and sure enough, they were burning hot to the touch as well. { _Great. No wonder Jeeves wanted my socks and shoes! _}

Unfortunately, Xander knew he couldn't just give up and forfeit the trial. Too much was at stake, namely Cordelia's life. So he just ran, concentrating on the door – and nothing but the door. It was the only way he could block out the heat and the pain. Running for all he was worth, somehow Harris managed to get all the way to the door without falling down, but it was locked. { _Damn. I'm no Slayer, I can't just kick it down! Looks like I need the key, but where would it be hidd...oh, man. The basin!_ }

Trying to ignore the pain of his feet getting burned again, Harris turned around and headed for the basin. He immediately plunged his right arm into the liquid, before pulling it out with a primal scream. { _Oil, oil, boiling oil! Shit, shit, shit!_ }

Hopping up and down in agony, Xander pushed at the basin (ignoring as best he could the blistering and burning of his arm and hand as he knocked it over) containing the key at the bottom; and as it fell to the floor, the oil spilled out all over the place. Thanks to the heat panels, the oil ignited at once as the room became an unholy inferno, the flames cooking his feet. { _Just get the key, God damn it!_ }

He did so, doing his best to ignore the overwhelming heat from the damned piece of metal; running through the flames, back to the door and placing it in the lock. Luckily, there were no further complications and the door slid open easily. But as Xander limped into the next chamber, chains shot out from the ceiling and the floor; clamping onto his wrists and ankles, and immobilizing him completely.

Jeeves materialized out of nowhere, clapping his hands. "Excellent play, old chap. I really must salute you; only one other person has ever gotten this far. Of course, there is one final challenge..."

"What?" Xander asked softly, trying to ignore the terrible pain which he was in.

The butler then raised his hand, and from the wall in front of Xander, there emerged a number of iron spikes. Row after row of them. Some kind of liquid was dripping off of them, too. { _Most likely poison of some kind, knowing my luck._ }

"Ya wanna tell me what's going on?" Xander asked, looking at the spikes and trying his best to compartmentalize and block out the pain from his injuries.

Jeeves gestured airily. "As I said, this is the last test."

"Uh-huh. Lemme guess; only way I pass this last test of yours is if I die, right?" Xander asked slowly.

"Exactly. You do understand – there must be a balance. In order to win the ultimate prize, namely confronting the Powers themselves, you must make the ultimate sacrifice."

"Any loopholes?"

"I'm afraid not," Jeeves said, and then he went to the wall and pulled on a lever. The wall of spikes started moving towards their target, slowly. But as abruptly as it started, the movement stopped.

Xander didn't get it, wincing as he filled up more mental compartments with the pain in order to focus. "What now? I mean, why'd you stop?"

"I can't use this contraption without your permission, sir," Jeeves replied. "After all, this is a matter of life or death. And you still have the option of forfeiting this particular challenge and walking away."

"And if I choose to walk?"

"The status quo is maintained. Thus, now would be the time for any last-second reconsideration."

Xander glared at the butler. "Kill me and get it over with."

"Very well, but before I do – a question, if I may."

"What is it?"

"What do you truly hope to gain from all this?" Jeeves asked curiously. "According to my information, the young woman you are sacrificing yourself for...you mean little, if anything, to her any longer. Plus the odds are that all this is rather pointless, unfortunately, if you were hoping to make for any significant difference in the grand scheme of things. So – why?"

Xander exhaled; a long, pained, and defeated breath. "I owe Cordy a debt, and I intend to repay it. The rest is none of your business – so just do your job, damn it."

"Very well."

Xander shut his eye, waiting to die. He couldn't help wondering if he would be reunited with Anya now. Hopefully, she would be okay with him doing this; namely, throwing his life away for a woman that had once been competition, and who probably didn't even remember his name anymore. { _But even if Ahn's not okay with it, I don't care. Huh – kinda weird how I've stopped dreaming about our old life together, nowadays. Guess I really was starting to move on from Anya, at that..._ }

But then all such thoughts vanished from his mind as Harris heard a loud grinding noise, and then...

Nothing. Xander suddenly realized the chains keeping him immobile had gone. He opened his eye to see Jeeves standing there, nodding in respect.

"Well done, sir. You passed the final test. In accepting your death as a sacrifice for the greater good, you were able to succeed in your quest." Jeeves nodded again. "Congratulations."

"Thanks." Xander groaned, his hands and feet still burned and blistered. He took a moment to appreciate the fact that he was still alive, though, despite the pain. "So what next?"

The so-called butler gestured, and Xander vanished from sight, reappearing back in the chamber of the Conduit. And from there, he undertook a journey no one who knew him had thought possible...

A trek to directly face the Powers That Be themselves.

TBC...


	3. Revelations

See Part One for disclaimer and details. Hey, everyone, welcome to the latest chapter of the story! Big thank-you to everyone who's read and/or reviewed this fic so far, as always it's much appreciated. It really is! Please, keep it coming. Now, this chapter is something of a filler, but it sets the stage for a lot of stuff that will happen later on in the story, so it's important to get it all out there at this point. Anyway, hope you enjoy – and happy Easter, to one and all!

* * *

**Part Three: Revelations**

**Restricted area of the coma ward, Wolfram & Hart private hospital**

**January 24th, 2004**

Pain.

The first thing she noticed was the pain from a headache that slowly dissipated. The second thing the young woman noticed was the steady beeping. It wasn't incredibly loud or annoying or anything, just constant.

Then came the smell, and Cordelia Chase instantly knew where she was – because she knew the smell of a hospital room anywhere. She had been in them many times during her relatively short life.

A few scrapes here and there during childhood, that long stay after the 'fluke' back in senior year of high school, her demon pregnancy, Connor's checkups, the brain scans that had told her she was slowly dying...

Coughing, Cordelia yanked the tube out of her throat as the young woman opened her eyes and looked around. She was in a hospital bed, surrounded by a privacy curtain all around her. { _What the hell..._ }

Because the last thing the Seer recalled was watching Angel and the others in Las Vegas from one of the Higher Realms, and feeling relief that her friends were finally safe from that asshole named Lee DeMarco. Now she was wearing tan slacks, a grayish silk shirt showing a generous amount of cleavage, and her brunette hair was expertly done up in soft curls; thanks in part to the trials Xander had undergone.

After all, Cordelia Chase in an off-white hospital gown, looking totally pale and half-dead? The very idea!

Cordy got up from the bed, and moved toward the side where the beeping was coming from. She slowly opened the curtain, and once she saw who was in the bed next to hers – the Vision Girl screamed, long and loudly, like she did when she saw her first demon.

* * *

**CEO office, Wolfram & Hart building**

**A few minutes later**

"What?!" Angel demanded in shock, his hand clenching the phone tightly as he stood up from his desk.

The two other people in the office looked up sharply at their boss. "Angel?" Fred asked him.

"Don't let her leave!" Angel said forcefully into the mouthpiece, ignoring the brunette. "I'll be right there!"

He hung up and was halfway towards the door when Wesley grabbed his arm. "What is it, what's going on?"

"It's Cordelia," the ensouled vampire told the amazed ex-Watcher. "She's awake!"

* * *

**Restricted area of the coma ward, Wolfram & Hart private hospital**

**A short while later**

"Please calm down, Ms. Chase," the doctor tried to alleviate his patient's distress as he blocked the room's doorway. "I just need to give you an examination to make sure you're okay..."

Cordelia backed away from him at once. "Why the hell should I trust you?" she wanted to know. "I don't even know who you are. I wake up in this place, wherever this place is, with no idea how I got here – and I find someone beside me plugged into so many machines that he looks like a damn Borg!"

"I'm a doctor, and this is a private hospital in Los Angeles. I'm afraid you've been here for many months, Ms. Chase," the physician told her. "You've been in a coma. I don't know how **_he_** got here, or even why he's in a comatose state, but-"

"What?!" Cordelia interrupted, focusing on the first part of the explanation. "Hello, do I look like I was in a damn coma? I was in a very dull higher plane of existence, I'll have you know!"

"Cordy!" Angel called out as he charged through the door, knocking the doctor to one side before he hugged her intensely. "You're awake!"

"Angel, thank God, I..." Cordelia began to say as the vampire held her tightly in his arms. "Hey! Kind of needing to breathe here!"

"Oh...right!" Angel said as he let her go. "Do you-" But he was instantly cut off by Fred grabbing Cordelia into a big hug as well.

"Ohmygod!" Fred babbled happily. "You're awake, you're awake!"

"Okay, that's it. Can someone please tell me what's going on here?" the very confused Cordelia asked of the entire room.

"You've been in a coma since Jasmine was born," Wesley said as he came close and embraced her too. He didn't seem to notice the Seer's shock as he added, "It's been nearly a year – and bloody hell, the doctors told us the odds were that you'd never wake up!"

"A **_year?!_**" Cordy exclaimed. She was utterly shocked to hear that; even if in a small, detached part of her mind, it actually explained why Wesley was no longer acting like any sort of ostracized outcast, like she'd been subconsciously expecting. The Seer shook her head and added, "Uh, and Jasmine? Who or what is that?"

"Your...daughter," Fred said awkwardly, briefly looking at the others.

"**_Daughter?!_**" Cordelia screeched. "Fred, what the hell are you talking about?!"

{ _She doesn't remember? Oh, boy..._ } Angel turned to the doctor. "Look, uh, that'll be all. I'll take it from here, okay?"

The man just nodded before he left. "Of course, Mr. Angel."

"Mr. Angel?" Cordelia asked, looking at her vampire friend in amazement. "And what, you tell hospital doctors what to do now...and they obey you, just like that?"

"Uh, no," Angel said, feeling unsure if he wanted to tell her everything. But then he decided it would be best to get this all out into the open right now. { _What the hell, she's gonna find out sooner rather than later; and it didn't work out too well the last time we tried to keep secrets, when she had amnesia!_ } "Ah, ever since we took over the L.A. branch of Wolfram & Hart-"

"You did **_what?!_** Wait, is this-? Wolfram & Hart have their own hospital? Like, where you can go to get your hand chopped off?" Cordelia interrupted. "Okay, I'm getting a headache, nothing's making any sense! One thing at a time." She looked at Angel in annoyance. "And my first question is...why the hell is **_Xander_** here in a coma?!"

"Xander? Xander Harris?" Wesley asked, surprised. "But according to that Andrew fellow who was here last week, he's in Africa..."

"I know Xander Harris's face when I see it, Wesley!" Cordelia told him, frowning. "And so should you! Look, there he is – in that bed!"

The new arrivals finally took notice of the comatose man not far away. "It's really him?!" Angel asked, shocked. "Huh. What the hell is he doing here?"

"That's what **_I_** want to know!" Cordelia yelled.

"You can call Harris here a pinch-hitter, kid."

Everyone turned towards the door at the sound of the Bronx-accented male voice, as a badly-dressed short man wearing a hat came into the room and closed the door. "Hello, all."

"Whistler?" Angel asked, a little surprised by this blast from the past. "What are you doing here?"

"All right, I give up. Who's the guy with the horrible Seventies clothes?" Cordelia asked. "And do **_you _**know what's going on here?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know the score," Whistler told her shortly.

When he didn't say anything else, Cordelia growled at him. "**_Well?!_**"

The balance demon went over and sat on the bed Cordelia had woken up from. "Long story short, all of you...including that black guy and the lounge demon with the horns, who aren't here right now...you were all played like violins."

"We already know all about that," Angel told him impatiently, just as Cordelia was about to say 'What?' again. "Skip confessed about how we were all manipulated from the start, before Wes finally killed him!"

"Skip?" Cordy asked, with a great deal of puzzlement. "You mean that big silver thing who demonized me, the demon guide who sent me to that white...place?"

Angel looked at her, and felt pity for her lost and confused self. "Yeah, but the thing is he was actually a bad guy in disguise, working for Jasmine. Look, Cordy, this is gonna sound very hard to believe, I know...but see, our lives over the years, just about everything we did – it was all part of this big master plan, which was orchestrated by that damned thing."

When he saw her continued bafflement the vampire added, "I'll tell you all the details later. But the bottom line is Jasmine messed with everyone's destinies to get herself born into this world, so that she could take it over."

"We barely stopped her in the end," Wesley added. "And even though thousands died, the planet was saved at the last moment from becoming a so-called 'paradise' at her hands."

"Connor?" Cordy had to ask.

"Who?" Wesley and Fred asked in unison, looking at each other briefly.

"He's still alive," Angel said, catching her eye and sending Cordy a subtle signal not to get into that right now. He was glad that she remembered and all, but now was **_so_** not the time to get into that subject! "But I'm afraid a lot of others weren't so lucky."

"Yeah, and you don't know the half of it, pal!" Whistler told his old 'acquaintance'. "Angel, pop quiz. Who do I work for?"

"The Powers That Be, of course," the vampire replied.

"That's right," Whistler nodded. "And who have you worked for, the last seven years or so?"

"The Powers That Be!" Angel said again, as he shared a look with Wesley. "What are you trying to say to me?"

Whistler stared hard at him, "Is that what you think? That you're a, a Champion for the Powers? That you're...special?"

"Well, yeah..."

Ignoring Angel's look of confusion, Whistler waved his hand, and an image appeared hovering in the room. It was an oval-shaped glimpse into the past, and while Fred just stared in confusion, Cordelia, Wesley and Angel quickly understood what the image represented.

The condo of Rupert Giles, or rather the former residence of the British man – since Sunnydale had been a giant crater for well over six months now.

"Special, right. Okay – listen up, champ, while I give everyone here a little history lesson. This is from back when your evil alter ego almost sucked the world into Hell," Whistler told Angel, as the image seemed to come alive like a floating TV set. "Remember that little fun episode? Because I do. And you wouldn't believe how much groveling I had to do, to try to make up for what my star protégé got up to back then!"

Angel looked embarrassed, as everyone watched a seventeen-year-old Buffy Summers grab their balance demon acquaintance by the neck. _"I have had a REALLY bad day, okay? If you have information worth hearing, then I am grateful for it. If you're gonna crack jokes, then I'm gonna pull out your ribcage and wear it as a hat."_

As she dropped him, Past Whistler felt his sore throat. _"Hello to the imagery! Very nice."_ His tone got serious. _"It wasn't supposed to go down like this."_ He walked around Past Buffy. _"Nobody saw you coming. I figured this for Angel's big day. But I thought he was here to STOP Acathla, not to bring him forth!"_

Looking back at her, he kept going._ "Then you two made with the smoochies...now he's a creep again. Now, what are you gonna do? W-what are you prepared to do?"_

Past Buffy sighed. _"Whatever I have to."_

Past Whistler shook his head. _"Maybe I should ask, what are you prepared to give up?"_

Past Buffy exhaled again, annoyed. _"You don't have anything useful to tell me, do you?"_ She looked the guy over. _"What are you, just some immortal demon sent down to even the score between good and evil?"_

Past Whistler stared at her, surprised and impressed. _"Wow. Good guess."_

The floating images stopped and disappeared after that. "Acathla," Whistler told Angel firmly. "The real reason it was arranged for you to get your soul back, believe it or not, was that SOB stone demon. Your big, grand destiny was to stop Drusilla from sucking the world into Hell, that's it. But then you went and lost your soul! Ended up just another vampire."

Angel shook his head firmly, refusing to believe that. "I'm a Champion!"

"Yeah, well – call it whatever you want. I mean whatever floats your boat, pal," Whistler shrugged. "But once you hit your big creep-o phase, like I said to Little Miss Goldilocks back then...well. As far as the Powers were concerned? Soul or otherwise, you might just as well have stayed in Hell as escaped being sent there. But then Jasmine took over your so-called destiny, and brought you back to become her pawn."

"No," Angel told him stubbornly. "You're wrong. It was the First Evil who did that, in order to get me to kill myself and damn my own soul. Besides, there were prophecies, there were – I have to work for my shanshu, that was the deal! I work for the Powers as their Champion, and they make me human one day as my reward!"

"Really. Okay, then, here's a question for the studio audience – anyone here know what the cast of the A-Team is doing now?" Whistler asked.

"Ah, no..." Fred finally spoke up, not sure what to make of the abrupt change in subject.

"Right," Whistler told her. "And that's because no one cares, on account of their job is done and they faded away into the sunset...or night in your case, Stink Guy."

Before Angel could respond, Whistler went back to the main topic. "Your sidekick Doyle, he was tricked by Jasmine into thinking he...well, you know, that whole redemption thing he had going. So then you **_thought_** you finally started playing in the big leagues. Like Jasmine sending your little buddy visions about a girl you couldn't save, to get you pissed enough to go after that creep Russell Winters. And getting you there just in time to save the Prom Queen, here."

"What the hell are you talking about? I was never a prom queen! And why would saving me then be so damn important?" Cordelia demanded.

Whistler sighed dramatically, and even theatrically. "Okay, for the girl that was just in a coma? I'll say it once. The big evil plan was for you and Doyle to fall for one another, then when it's time for him to die for the cause and he plants a big wet one on ya...well, bottom line, that idiot didn't know that he was gonna transfer the visions to you."

"He didn't?" Cordy said, shocked and a little upset. "But I thought..."

"That he knew?" Whistler asked. "Nope, Vision Boy didn't know squat about that happening. He just gave his life for his friends; which earned him enough points to make up for letting those people who came to him for help die, and get into Heaven. Although personally, I say he shoulda let Angel here jump! Lotta people who are dead right now wouldn't be, in that scenario."

Angel again looked like he couldn't believe what he was hearing, but Whistler relentlessly kept going. "Anyway, then the big bad lawyers brought back good old Darla, then vamped her, and pretty soon the miracle baby shows up! Connor is born fully human, well – mostly. Then he goes away for a few weeks, and comes back all grown up with an attitude. Then he gets all jiggy with 'Mom' here..."

"What the hell are you talking about?!" Cordelia yelled, repeating herself from a minute ago.

"That's what I'd like to know," Wes looked completely lost, as did Fred. "Angel, who the – what on earth is this Whistler person referring to?"

"Yeesh, this is getting too annoying. All right..." Whistler conjured up an Orlon Window, the small cube glowing with yellow light in his right hand. "Can any of you guess what this is?"

"No, what is it?" Fred demanded, intrigued by the object.

"The end of Angel's little memory spell."

"No, don't!" the vampire leapt forward.

Too late. Whistler threw the Window to the ground, and once it shattered – the original memories of the past came rushing back to the British ex-Watcher and the Texan physicist (but no one else).

Both Wes and Fred literally staggered, trying to cope with the influx overload. The Englishman recovered first, his hand reaching for a scar that was no longer there. Wesley's eyes narrowed accusingly and he said to Angel, "Everything that's happened since last year. You...you altered...you made me think...**_you tried to murder me, while I was lying helpless in that hospital bed!_**"

Angel backed away, mourning the permanent loss of Wesley's friendship as well as the betrayed look on Fred's face. "Look, you guys, I had my reasons for doing what I did!"

"Reasons? Reasons? You, you raped our minds that way – without our knowledge or consent, Angel! So what if Connor was a complete mess? That didn't give you the right to do something like that to the rest of us! I mean, is **_this_** why we all decided to work for the big evil law firm? Because I don't know what to believe anymore!" Winifred Burkle looked traumatized and very upset, as Cordelia stared at Angel in horror.

"Cordelia, I'm glad you're out of the coma and all, but as far as I'm concerned – we're done here. So consider this me tendering my resignation, **_Mr. Angel!_**" Wesley shouted, as he backed away.

"Hold up, English. This story ain't over yet," Whistler advised, halting the British man in his tracks. "Stick around. The main event's still yet to come."

Wesley looked at the supernatural messenger boy, suspicious and cynical after the recent shocking revelations. "And that would be?"

"We'll get to that, soon enough. But I figure you might wanna do the whole moral support thing first, once the princess here learns how she popped little Connor's cherry."

"I did **_what?!_**" Cordelia demanded in disgusted disbelief.

"You turned that kid into a man," Whistler told her bluntly. "Hell of a way to lose your virginity, too, I gotta say."

"**_No!_**" Cordelia said firmly, as Wesley and Fred looked at her sadly. "That's **_insane_**, I would never...I mean, it's Connor! I was practically his mother...I changed his diapers, for God's sake!"

The floating ovoid-shaped portal appeared again, and showed younger versions of Cordelia and Connor looking out a window in some old building.

Past Connor looked upset as the rain of fire began. _"What if it is? What if that thing is – it chose the place where I was born. Is that why it's here...because of me?"_

Past Cordelia told him firmly, _"No."_

The male teen didn't appear so sure. He shook his head, _"I was never supposed to happen. The child of two vampires. What if-"_

_"Connor, it's not you,"_ Past Cordelia told him firmly.

Past Connor looked back at her. _"You don't know that."_

_"Yes, I do. In my heart."_ She reached out and touched his face, brushing the hair from his eyes. _"It's not you, baby. It's not you. Not you."_

With the hand she used to brush hair from his face, the younger Cordelia pulled Connor's face closer and kissed him tenderly and passionately. When they separated, the eighteen-year-old boy looked at her in surprise. _"Why...why did you-?"_

_"Because I don't think it matters anymore,"_ Past Cordy told him softly. _"I know how you feel about me, Connor. When I think about what you've..."_ She trailed off, before she caressed his face lovingly. _"You never had a childhood, or a family or friends or anything that's real, and if this is the end, I want you to have something that is."_

"**_Oh my freaking God!_**" the current version of Cordelia Chase screamed a few seconds later, and covered her mouth as she ran for the nearby bathroom. She had just witnessed the Miracle Child and herself – doing the deed. Bumping uglies. Riding the baloney pony. Playing bury the weasel. Petting the beaver. Stroking the mink. Buttering the muffin. Playing slap the kitty. Coitus. Shagging like bunnies, call it what you will –

Very loud sounds of retching and vomiting could then be heard, as the young woman reacted badly to the images she had just seen. Wesley and Fred looked like they wanted to join Cordelia as well.

"Well," Whistler grinned. "She took it better than I thought she would..."

"That's **_enough!_**" Angel shouted with an enraged expression, as the Messenger for the Powers shrugged and the images vanished. "**_Too much_**-"

"You don't like having to witness the woman you love gettin' knocked up by your son – or how you were too thick to realize it wasn't actually her in the driver's seat, back then?" Whistler asked cuttingly.

Angel couldn't say anything, thanks to the pain and anguish of those days hitting him all over again. Oddly, Wesley of all people decided to speak up to support his boss – or former boss, anyway. Wyndam-Pryce said, "He wasn't alone, you know. If I recall correctly, Jasmine duped**_ all_** of us that way. And if you're planning to take the moral high ground, would you mind telling me why in God's name the Powers ever allowed matters to get that far?!"

Whistler squirmed, instantly losing the smirk. "Mine is not to ask why, Book Guy. I just work here, like I told the Slayer way back when."

Wesley could tell how that was a lie. But he didn't say anything, as Cordelia returned from the bathroom. The ex-Watcher could tell the Seer looked ill, like she'd swallowed something that really didn't agree with her.

The truth.

"How the hell did **_that_** happen?" Cordy asked the room in general.

"Y'all were possessed by Jasmine," Fred said simply, her Texan accent thickening from all the stress of recent events.

"Where is she?" Cordelia looked mad. "'Cause I swear, I want a piece of her ass!"

"Too late. Connor killed her over six months ago," Wesley replied with a haunted voice.

"Damn it!" Cordelia cursed, angry to be denied her vengeance. But after glancing backwards, she suddenly remembered her original question to Angel's Avengers. "Hey, but what about Xander? And what did you mean by 'pinch-hitter', Whistle-face?"

Whistler shook his head. "I think I'll let him explain it himself." He gestured again, and the oval-shaped portal sprang to life once more.

"What the devil are they saying?" Wesley frowned, as he and the others witnessed Xander in conversation with what appeared to be an African witch doctor. They were speaking in a foreign language – Swahili, maybe, or something like that.

"Oops, sorry..." Whistler looked apologetic as he reset the language control button, so to speak.

_"-there can be no doubt about it. The woman will soon die in her sleep, but not before someone uses her image to manipulate the vampire and his associates,"_ the witch doctor said calmly, looking at his bowl that contained animal bones, spit and a sample of Xander's blood.

_"Can you give me more details on exactly what happens, after Cordy dies?"_ Past Xander asked, as the Fang Gang looked shocked.

_"The earthly instruments of the Senior Partners shall all die in various ways. But in retaliation the Wolf, Ram and Hart will send an army to slay their killers. And the Seer will be rotting in her grave two months before that happens."_

The conversation suddenly ceased, as Whistler gestured in alarm. "Damn, I never knew about that part of it..."

"I was supposed to **_die _**in my **_sleep?!_**" Cordelia let loose with a primal shriek. Then she turned to face Whistler, "You! Mr. Fashion Victim, I wanna know everything. And no tricks, no evasions. Or I'll do what Buffy said a few minutes ago, and pull out your damn ribcage!"

"Easy, easy!" Whistler instantly backed off. "Look, I don't know everything, okay? Seriously, that last part was just as big a surprise to me as it is to you!"

"Well, obviously, Cordelia didn't die while she was trapped in that damned coma. Therefore, logically, Mr. Harris did something to change that." Wesley's sharp mind didn't have to work too hard to make the obvious conclusion.

Whistler nodded, "That he did." He then turned to Cordelia. "You want details regarding your ex?"

"Bet your ass I do!"

"Fine. Well, he did this for you. After Harris left that witch doctor in Africa, he made his way to the Conduit-"

"The Conduit?!" Angel interrupted. "But he wouldn't be allowed to go in there, only a Champion is permitted to enter!"

"You mean – someone like you? Even though you know now that you were basically nothing but a puppet, for the past five or six years?" Whistler asked derisively, as Angel looked away. "I'll tell you something, though, that Harris guy really is a piece of work. If other humans were like him, this planet would be a helluva different place! Even though he's practically suicidal these days..."

"He's what?!" Cordelia instantly demanded.

Whistler just stared at the buxom beauty quizzically. "Harris was willing to die in order to save your life. Partly to make up for past mistakes, but partly because the way I figure he saw it, he had pretty much nothing left to lose any longer. On account of not only did everyone he trusted lie to him directly to his face, about you being in that coma? Not all that long ago, he was pushed real hard to take a job in Africa he didn't want, his witchy best friend stopped talking to him, and his Slayer pal started sleeping with someone he hated. It was almost as bad as when blondie was screwing that vampire called Spike, rather than bitch at her friends about her problems..."

"**_What?!_**" Cordelia said in disbelief for maybe the tenth time so far today, as Angel ground his teeth in anger.

"Spike knows this guy, too?" Fred asked in confusion.

"Yeah, I – hey! Since when do you know who Spike is, Fred?" Cordy whirled around.

The Burkle woman shrugged. "He comes in to my lab every so often to visit. Says hi to me and a few others over at the firm," she said.

Wesley nodded. "Although he's moved on lately. Trying out that whole 'helping the helpless' thing, rather than work with us at Wolfram & Hart..."

Then recent memories came crashing back, and the Englishman's expression changed as he contemplated that and what Angel had done. "Good luck to him, I suppose."

"Spike? Okay, are we talking about the same soulless Billy Idol wannabe I met years ago in Sunnydale?" Cordy demanded incredulously.

"Oh, no, he's got a soul nowadays," Fred was quick to defend her one-time ghostly friend, who had recently become corporeal once more.

"He does?" Cordelia wanted to be sure of that. "So, you mean, Spike's like Angel now?"

"No!" Angel said vehemently. "We are **_nothing_** alike!"

Cordelia shook her head again, figuring she didn't want to know anything more about that. She turned back to Whistler and said, "Keep going. You said something about a conduit?"

"Oh yeah. That thing banged Harris around something good, but kinda funny about a guy who thinks he's on a one-way street to Endsville – he don't give up easy, once he sets his mind on something. So, somehow, the man passed all the trials which the Conduit set up, in order to get what he wanted."

"Trials? What trials?" Wesley demanded, his interest engaged.

"Trial by fire and combat. But there was also another test regarding purity of spirit, or intent, or some such thing. Gotta admit, never thought he'd pass that one; but he did, and with flying colors even!" Whistler briefly looked amazed.

"Oh, come on! **_Xander_** has purity of spirit?" Angel couldn't believe it.

Whistler, Cordelia, Fred and even Wesley turned to stare at him. "As far as I know, unlike yourself – he's never willingly violated the minds of his friends," the British man said icily.

"Or deliberately let two vampires slaughter a bunch of evil lawyers in a basement," Cordelia said in a haunted tone of voice, which made Angel want to flinch.

"Or even risked letting your evil alter ego send the world to Hell. I'm guessing that's why he lied to the Summers chick back then, anyway. I mean, if that girl had learned that there was even a one in a million chance her witch pal would stuff that soul back down your throat? What do **_you_** think woulda happened that day with Acathla, wise guy?" Whistler said with an upraised eyebrow.

Angel couldn't seem to find anything to say, what with all the stares being sent at him. And for their part, Cordelia and Wesley silently wondered if they'd ever even known Xander at all.

So Whistler went on, "Anyway, Harris here was the first guy in maybe ten thousand years to earn himself a face-to-face with the Powers That Be. That's where we met, Up There – and man, but you shoulda heard him afterwards! I don't think my bosses were ever expecting anyone to show up and start yelling at 'em like that, but what the hell – the kid kept ranting that his ex had been used and abused in their name for nearly five years, and damn well didn't deserve what was gonna happen to her pretty soon. Talk about over-emotional, sheesh!"

Cordelia turned to face the comatose one-eyed man in question, tears starting to well up in her eyes. "What happened to him after that? Why is Xander like...this?"

Whistler shrugged. "The Powers told him that they couldn't just wake you up like he wanted. Despite everything you've gone through, kid, it simply doesn't work that way. So Harris here agreed to take your place. You know; the whole balance thing..."

Cordy was instantly horrified. "NO! Change it back, right now! I'm not going to let Xander die for me!"

"Cordy, no way!" Angel exclaimed at once. He told her in no uncertain terms, "You are **_not_** going back into that coma!"

"Are you **_serious?!_**" Cordelia shouted, her eyes becoming stormy and her face enraged as Angel instantly took a step backwards. "Oh, what am I saying – **_of_** **_course_** you are! You honestly prefer that Xander die in my place that way!"

"No, I-"

"No? Really? Because it's a win-win situation as far as you're concerned, isn't it? You get me back, and a guy who always hated you conveniently ends up dead! Oh, I swear, Angel – I am so totally **_pissed _**at you right now!"

"But I-"

"God! To think that Groo left me and I didn't even go after him that night, because I had some stupid-ass vision of myself saying that I was in love with you!" Cordelia ranted, not giving Angel any chance to defend himself.

"Wouldn't have worked out even if you did chase after your boyfriend, actually," Whistler interjected, before the vampire could say anything. "On account of that big lug wasn't the long-haul guy for you, and deep down, ya both knew it. I mean, geez – initially his idea of foreplay was to kill something and present it to you as some kinda trophy, remember?"

Cordelia blushed, calming down as everyone stared at her with various emotions in their eyes. Then she said firmly, "Getting back on topic?"

"Right, Harris. Well, as I said, he agreed to take your place. And you woke up-"

"Wake him up as well," Wesley interrupted firmly. "Despite our past differences, there is no way I'm going to allow that young man to undergo this...this travesty of justice!"

Whistler rolled his eyes. "Are you people deaf, or just not listening to me? Harris deliberately put himself in a coma. Deal with it! Luckily though, the way he worded his request to my bosses, the guy made sure he didn't end up with the cheerleader's brain damage – Little Miss Vengeance, Class of 880, she taught him well. So he'll wake up again one day – you just gotta wait it out, that's all."

"How long?" Fred walked over and appraised the one-eyed man, wondering which resources of her division she could best utilize to help him. "Ballpark figure, if you have to."

Again, the human-looking demon shrugged. "My opinion? A year, maybe. Or more. Or less, who knows? And some free advice for you. Be ready for a fight when Harris's so-called friends hear about this, and come charging over here to take him away from you people!"

"You mean Buffy and Willow, yes?" Wesley asked in confusion.

"And what's that 'so-called' thing supposed to mean? 'Cause I know for a fact that those two would be willing to die for him, and vice versa!" Cordelia added promptly.

"That was then, this is now," Whistler replied, his facial expression suggesting this was no longer a topic of conversation he wanted to continue. "Listen, Angel-"

"What are you trying to hide?" the vampire interrupted, staring at his old sponsor. "Whatever it is – you may as well cough up, Whistler. We'll eventually find out, anyway."

The balance demon snorted. "Fine, you asked for it. Like I said before, Harris didn't like it when he learned your slayer ex had hooked up with that chowderhead called the Immortal-"

"Buffy did**_ what?!_**" Angel immediately roared, vamping out in fury as Wes instinctively grabbed Fred and shielded her with his body.

"Hey! Calm down, pal. You and her ended up splitsville ages ago, remember?" Whistler asked, as Cordelia got a funny look on her face from witnessing Angel's anger and jealousy. "Even if you and blondie were sucking face in that tomb, the night before Sunnyhell went the way of the dodo..."

The Messenger went on, "Anyway, there was one helluva of a nasty fight in Rome when Harris confronted Summers about that. So, eventually – after the guy made sure the kid sister was all right for her final year of high school, and even had a job ready for her with that friggin' Council if she wanted it – Captain One-Eye left blondie behind for good. And just my opinion, but his comment about her needing to see a shrink for dating that immortal ass-wipe? That mighta been better left unsaid..."

"Who's the Immortal, exactly? And, uh, the kid sister?" Fred asked timidly, as Wesley **_finally_** let her go.

"Dawn Summers. You remember; she was briefly at the hotel along with everyone else, after Sunnydale was destroyed that day," Wesley said, frowning. "Hmmm – she **_is_** turning eighteen soon at that, isn't she? My word, how the years have passed..."

"And the Immortal's the foulest evil Hell ever vomited forth," Angel spat in disgust, resuming his human mask and wondering how things had ever come to this.

"Well, he's not quite that bad. Because hey, you're still pissed over how he screwed them two vampire broads of yours back in the nineteenth century – concurrently," Whistler said with a slight curling of his lip. "Totally understandable."

Angel gritted his teeth. "I have to get back to the office, and contact Buffy. Try to explain what's happened. And figure out how to kill that guy, once and for all!"

"He's immortal, so never gonna happen. And I don't know why you're actin' like this, champ. You and that Slayer coulda been together all this time if you'd made the right choice back then, you forgotten that little tidbit?"

Wes and Fred looked lost yet again. "What do you mean by that?" Wyndam-Pryce asked Whistler.

It was Cordy who spoke up after figuring it out. "Back in 1999 – Angel was human for a day. And apparently he and Buffy ended up together, y'know, in the bedroom sort of way, after some stupid Mohair demon or whatever came around to our old office building. But then Angel did the whole Groundhog Day thing, when he decided it was more fun being a vampire or whatever, and the entire day's events vanished."

"Hey, it wasn't like that! Well, not exactly, I mean – the Oracles told me Buffy would die if I stayed human," Angel sounded annoyed as he said that.

"And you becoming a walking corpse again prevented that, how? That broad ended up six feet under anyway less than two years later, remember?" Whistler asked. "And just so you know, that was your only chance to be with her. Because the Powers are not gonna turn you human – ever."

{ _No, no, no! That means...Spike is the ensouled vampire who eventually becomes human?_ } It was the final straw for the emotionally battered Angel. "**_Why?!_**"

"Number of reasons. But mostly 'cause deep down, you don't **_want_** to be human. You'll lose all the power, and end up just like Harris was during the Nineties. Weak and useless against the demons in a war zone – or at least that's what all the Slayers would say these days, anyway. Yeah, what was it you said to Coma Boy that day, princess? The Zeppo of the group?"

Cordelia scowled, upset about past mistakes but burying her feelings behind an angry mask for public show. "Is there actually a point to any of this?"

"Heck, yeah. Apart from telling you about Sleeping Beauty over there, there's another reason why I came down to this neck of the woods again. And what is that, you ask? It was to tell you, Angel, that not only will you never be made human, you lose your soul ever again – you'll end up dust at once, no more warnings or second chances. Angelus will **_not_** be allowed to roam loose for a fourth time."

The demon then vanished in the blink of an eye. "Damn it! I hate it when he does that," Angel complained, feeling pissed after hearing the Messenger's cautionary warning-slash-threat.

Wesley looked at him, then Cordelia, and then Fred. "Time for me to go as well." The British man left without another word. Fred quickly followed after him.

"Cordelia-" Angel started to say, looking at her hopefully.

"Angel, don't even," the young woman interrupted wearily. "I mean – were you seriously planning to ask me to hook up with you, after everything I've learned just now?"

"Cordelia-"

The Chase woman seemed determined not to let him finish a sentence today. "Yeah, that's what I thought. Look, Angel, despite everything, I do still love you...as a friend. But as something more? After you were perfectly willing for Xander to die in my place? After seeing you get so jealous of Buffy's new boyfriend? No. I'm sorry, but that stuff's not something I can simply ignore. Not to mention what you did with that mind-wipe spell."

"Cordelia-"

"I mean, you put whatever thoughts and memories you wanted inside everybody's heads? And **_without_** their informed consent? I get that you had your reasons for doing that – I know that you'd do anything for Connor, no matter what the cost – but still, that's not the actions of a Champion, pal. What you did – well, quite frankly, it makes me **_ashamed_** of you, mister!"

"Cordelia-"

"Plus, think about it; if we **_did_** get together that way, how long would it be before you lost your soul again? Not wanting to brag, of course, but I'm Cordelia Chase – so, pretty damn soon! That's why I can't, I'm sorry but I **_can't_** be party to that. You need to find someone else, I guess...someone who won't make you perfectly happy. Someone who's not me..."

Deciding that actions spoke louder than words, Angel ran over and kissed her, with all the passion he could muster. But after it was over...he knew just from looking into the brunette's eyes that it hadn't been enough, that he had lost Cordelia as an object of romantic affection.

"Cordelia..."

No response this time. Just a sad, disappointed look, which hurt more than all her previous words put together.

So looking utterly defeated, Angel too finally left the hospital room. Cordy subsequently wiped her mouth and drew the privacy curtain away to the side, opening up a clear view of the comatose Xander Harris. He looked like a shell, whose essence had left the building. Much like she herself must have looked up until an hour ago, the Seer thought glumly.

"Well, now what?" Cordelia asked herself, eyeing Xander's prone form briefly. "Where do we go from here, Dweeb Boy?"

TBC...


	4. Three Shamans And A Lady

See Part One for disclaimer and details. Hi there, and welcome to the latest instalment of Shards of Fate! Thanks as always to everyone who's read and reviewed and favorite'd the story, and thank you to everybody who's sent feedback in terms of PMs and emails. Now, in the previous chapter, quite a few people thought we were bashing Angel's character. Sorry if you got that impression, folks, but that honestly wasn't our intention; neither of us like bashing fics, and we try to avoid that sort of thing on principle. Still, we should state for the record that people are going to say mean things in this story; there will be conflict and argument and emotional distress, and so if you're looking for schmoop and happily-ever-after, you've come to the _**wrong**_ place for that! Anyway, please don't let that stop you from sending us your feedback; we _**need**_ to hear from you on what we're doing right or wrong...but enough about all that, time to get on with the story!

* * *

**Part Four: Three Shamans And A Lady**

**Outside the temple of the Order of the Kun-Sun-Dai, Los Angeles**

**January 24th, 2004**

Ethan Rayne was feeling somewhat concerned. Not worried, exactly, but concerned nonetheless. Partly because ever since he had escaped from that underground prison and killed both Riley and Colonel Ellis, he'd felt a bit...off.

For example, Ethan had never considered himself the sort of bloke who took pleasure in doing either good or evil. As has been said, he was a worshipper of Chaos; the type who thrived on anarchy and confusion, thumbing his nose at the established order of things at every possible opportunity. And yet, over the past six months, he'd noticed himself acting in a way that was different from his customary behavior. Plus lately, he hadn't cared about anything other than his own desires and ambitions; and Rayne knew he was smarter than that...

For example, that Buffy Summers girl. Ethan had found himself wanting to kill her like he'd killed her former paramour, for the minor role she'd played in sending him to that damned prison – and to hell with the consequences! Which included being hunted down like an animal by Ripper and that new Council he had set up, in revenge for killing the closest thing he had to a daughter. A big risk for relatively little reward, all in all.

It simply wasn't worth it, and so, thus far he'd managed to resist the temptation. But Ethan didn't know for how much longer he could continue to do so. It was growing harder and harder to take any interest in the costs of his actions, and so Rayne knew it was time to consult with a professional about his problem.

"Good evening," Ethan said politely, after a door slot at eye-level slid open and a pair of eyes stared at him impassively. "The name's Ethan Rayne. I have an appointment to see an individual by the name of Wo-Pang?"

The slide closed back with a metallic click. Ethan rolled his eyes at the cheesiness of it all, but refrained from commenting as the door opened up. An Asian man stared at him, and then gestured abruptly with his head for Ethan to come in. Rolling his eyes again, Ethan did so.

He followed the Asian down a dark corridor, and came to a halt when the man lifted his palm in a 'halt' gesture. The man then said something in Mandarin, or Cantonese, or whatever oriental twang-y language he spoke, before going through a curtain of beads into a room of some sort.

{ _Bloody hell, this is taking forever!_ } Ethan thought to himself impatiently, as he started tapping his foot in annoyance. But he didn't have long to wait before the Asian man came out again, and gestured for him to enter the room.

Ethan did so, and as he entered the room his eyes quickly adjusted to the semi-darkness. There were lit candles in strategic places throughout the chamber, bathing the room with a dim glow of light, and so Ethan quickly noticed the prayer space painted red and black on the floor and the animal bones laid out within. There was also a man covered head to toe in burgundy-colored cloth, except for his eyes; who was kneeling within the space and bent over as if praying to his personal gods.

"Good evening," Ethan said again, this time not concealing a smirk as the burgundy-clad shaman looked up. "I'm Ethan Rayne. And rumor has it, you possess certain skills I require."

Wo-Pang frowned, recalling another man with a similar accent saying those words to him, roughly a year ago. Shaking off the feeling of déjà vu, the shaman said, "Welcome, Ethan Rayne. I have been expecting you. Would you like some Orange Zinger tea?"

Ethan raised his eyebrows over the unexpected question. "Well, I'm more of an Earl Grey man myself, but..."

"That can be arranged. See to it," Wo-Pang said to his acolyte, who simply bowed and left the room, the curtain parting briefly in his wake.

"Now then, before we go any further, I'd like to get the preliminaries out of the way. Namely, a guarantee that neither of us will try to stab each other in the back, as it were," Ethan said, his tone becoming a lot more business-like.

"What did you have in mind?"

"The Rite of Ma'kai," Ethan said. Upon seeing the shaman's eyes widen, he added, "I take it you've heard of the ritual?"

"Yes," Wo-Pang replied simply. He then thought to himself, { _Now, where did someone like you learn about something like that?_ }

Because Wo-Pang knew that that particular rite was for an unbreakable vow that would cause anyone to lose all their supernatural ability, if he or she violated their oath against betrayal in any way. However, the ritual had been created a very long time ago, and was all but forgotten in this modern age; so it was surprising, at least somewhat, that his visitor knew about it.

Making a decision, the shaman shrugged minutely and said, "Your terms are acceptable."

"Excellent," Ethan said, resisting the urge to rub his hands together like some B-movie super-villain. "Shall we begin, then?"

"After the tea ceremony," Wo-Pang intoned, before lapsing into silence.

Several minutes passed, until the acolyte returned with two steaming mugs of tea. Smiling, Ethan accepted his, and sprinkled something powdery into the liquid. Raising the earthenware mug in an ironic salute, he said to Wo-Pang, "Here's to your health!" and took a big gulp of the liquid.

Rayne then turned and said to the acolyte, "Strychnine? Really? Rather plebian for my taste, I have to say. And even without the neutralizing powder, I could have easily detected it – what with the way you put so much of the damned stuff in!"

Wo-Pang turned to glare at his acolyte. The man began babbling in his native language, looking terrified – before he abruptly choked, gurgled and collapsed dead onto the floor.

"Must acquire better followers," the shaman noted to himself in passing, before turning back to Ethan and inclining his head in regret. "My apologies for his actions."

"Oh, think nothing of it!" Ethan smiled; and it wasn't a nice smile, Wo-Pang noted at once. "One tends to expect this sort of thing from the ambitious minions, after all; it's why I cut all my followers loose a long time ago. Now then, since the tea business is effectively over with, shall we get on with it?"

Wo-Pang nodded silently, and without further ado, the Rite of Ma'kai was performed. Once reassured of his host's trustworthiness as much as he could be, Ethan explained his situation. Wo-Pang listened carefully, asked a few questions about the soul-scraping spell, and then requested Ethan to lay down on the floor in order to work his diagnostic magicks.

"Wa qing cho, wi xun zi lo. Kan, zhan, shan, kan, li. Ci wa ting ling. Si fao mao la," Wo-Pang intoned, after closing his eyes and putting his hands above Ethan's head and heart. He then opened them, and oddly enough, the orbs were now a blazing, scarlet red in color. "Ahhh!"

Ethan opened his eyes as well. "What's wrong?"

"Remain still. Do not move," Wo-Pang ordered him sternly. He then chanted, "Wa hao zhao xan xin zhe. Wan dong ta di zi yuan!"

"What **_are_ **you doing?" Ethan demanded, before there was a flash of white light – and then Wo-Pang moved back, and gestured at him to get up.

"The Wolfram & Hart mages who gave you that soul-scraping spell, they obviously did not warn you to seek help after using it," the dark mystic replied, his eyes going back to their normal coloration. "You should have come to me, long before now."

"Why?" Ethan was now starting to get worried.

"You mutilated your own soul," Wo-Pang replied, looking at him disapprovingly. "And then you did nothing about it, afterwards. To use an analogy, it is as if you chopped off your own arm, and then did nothing to stem the flow of blood. Your soul has been slowly dying ever since – which explains why you have been feeling as if consequences for one's actions are now irrelevant. I have done what I can for you – cauterized the bleeding wound, to continue the analogy. But after all this time, the effects are too widespread to fix or contain. The soul's complete dissolution can be delayed, but ultimately not prevented. Thus, you will soon become a soulless creature – and immediately afterwards, you will die."

"How long do I have, before that happens?" Ethan asked calmly enough, even if on the inside, he was reeling with horror at the news.

"Not long. A week, at most," Wo-Pang replied emotionlessly.

"That isn't much time," Ethan said, thinking furiously. He'd have to get a second opinion on this, naturally, but Rayne could not get rid of the nasty feeling that Wo-Pang was telling him the truth. "And just out of interest, if I **_had_** known the consequences, if I had come to you straightaway – could you have saved my life?"

"It is possible, yes." Wo-Pang inclined his head slightly.

Ethan didn't waste any time on trivialities – he paid the dark mystic for services rendered, and then quickly left the establishment. He had a lot to do, and not a lot of time left to do it.

* * *

**Headquarters of the new Watchers Council, London**

**The same time**

Rupert Giles sighed, listening to Andrew talk about the situation with Dana; the insane Slayer whom the nerd had recently taken to Cleveland, in order to get her away from Angel and Wolfram & Hart's clutches. The girl was unfortunately completely bonkers, which had been confirmed by both ordinary and magical means. And with almost no sense of self or identity, she relied on her dream memories (which were part of the Slayer inheritance) in order to function. So Dana continually channeled all the Chosen Ones that had come before her.

Including Faith, the last Slayer to be Called prior to Willow's handiwork.

"I'm sorry, could you repeat that?" Giles interrupted Andrew's monologue, slightly confused about something.

"Uh, I said – when Dana met Faith, her first words were, 'You wanna feel a connection? Our connection's just skin. I can make you scream. I could make you die.' And, um, Faith almost lost it," Andrew said uncomfortably. "Robin managed to calm her down, though, and got an explanation out of her later."

"Which was?"

"Uh...basically, Dana echoed what Faith said...the, uh, the night she tried to kill Xander," Andrew confessed, looking like he wanted to be anywhere but here right now.

Giles sighed again, resisting the temptation to polish his glasses. "And what happened after that?"

"Uh, Faith took off almost straightaway and left the Cleveland House. In fact she left the city and dropped off the grid, like completely. Robin, uh, he put Dana into psychiatric care of some sort, as well as a padded cell. I heard from Vi that he visits her every so often, hoping to hear her channeling his mom..."

{ _Bloody wonderful._ } Giles knew Robin Wood had issues regarding his mother, but he'd thought the man could keep them under control. { _No wonder he and Faith eventually broke up. Good Lord, I **knew** I should have had Wood transferred and assigned Xander to the new Hellmouth, instead..._ }

Giles then resisted the urge to ask Andrew if he knew where Harris was, and what the Council's so-called prodigal son was up to right now; Rupert already knew his aide knew nothing about that. Apparently, Xander had visited the Devon coven and they had done something to him which had rendered the boy invisible to any tracking spells, or scrying crystals, or anything like that. Later, he had dropped out of sight and out of touch with just about everyone.

The only person Xander talked to anymore was Dawn, calling her mobile number roughly once a week from wherever remote location in Africa he happened to find himself in. And she refused to tell anyone anything, even her own sister; Dawn insisted that if Xander wanted anybody else to know where he was or what was happening in his life, he'd get in touch with them himself. So, just like Faith, he was effectively gone.

There were times when Giles envied his younger acquaintances the freedom to disappear that way, to be honest with you. But ever since the mass Slayer activation, the logistical nightmare of trying to contact all 1800 of the Chosen had been superseded only by the threats that had been made by some of those girls against the Watchers in general, and Willow in particular – and he was the one who had to oversee the Council's response to it all.

For example, one of the newly activated American girls had been an athlete on the fast track for competing in the Olympic Games, later this year. But after being Called, she'd come under suspicion for steroid abuse and been dropped from consideration, despite no evidence of wrong-doing on her part. More importantly, after being contacted by one of her fellow Slayers, the girl's fury towards Willow over what she had done – and being drafted into a fight which the newbie had no interest in taking part in – had been enough to convince Giles to pay the former athlete enough money to simply fade away, and cease making a fuss.

Still, that was hardly an isolated case. More than one newly-called Slayer had complained about having her life ruined, in one form or another. More than one had also turned to a life of crime, abusing their new abilities. But even worse was how some of those former Potentials had been hunted down by demons and vampires without any idea why, and unfortunately, more than one of them had been killed during those somewhat chaotic early days. Their families, once the Council's representatives had arrived to offer explanations and condolences, had been enraged over what had happened – and had it been possible, Giles did not doubt that the grieving relatives would have tried to sue the Council for punitive damages, as well as shoot Willow dead.

Buffy, too, for giving the order to the witch to do what she'd done.

And probably himself as well, for aiding and abetting in Buffy's 'bloody brilliant plan'.

"Giles? Uh, are you listening to me?" Andrew's somewhat nasal voice interrupted Rupert's mental musings, and brought the head of the Council back to the present.

"I'm sorry, Andrew, I was distracted for a moment. What, uh, what did you say again?" Giles asked, staring at him from across the desk.

"I said, what are we gonna do about Xander?" Wells asked plainly. He hesitated before adding, "I, I don't wanna ask Dawn again to convince him to come back to London – I don't think she likes me much, not anymore. Are ya sure you can't get Willow to convince him to come in from the cold?"

"Willow has to remain out of touch with everyone, Andrew, at least for the moment. We're almost done reaching a, uh, out-of-court settlement with all the Slayers and their families demanding restitution – and after that, she can do whatever she likes. But for now, I-I don't want her exposing herself in public," Giles said firmly.

"Well, okay. You're the boss," Andrew shrugged. "It's just, I don't know anyone else who's got the midichlorians in order to get the job done..."

Rupert never got the chance to ask what that meant before the phone rang, and he picked up. "Yes?"

"Giles? It's me, Angel. I've been trying to contact Buffy, but they put me through to you, instead!" The vampire's voice sounded more than a little testy as he added, "Can you put her on the phone, please?"

"She's not here right now. Can I take a message?" Giles said coolly. Yes, he still had issues regarding Angel, **_especially_ **after learning that the vampire was now working for Wolfram & Hart. And if that was rather petty of him, well, so be it.

"Yeah. You can tell her that Xander's here in L.A., and that he's in a coma. **_If _**that's not too much of a hassle for you," Angel's voice sounded more than a little annoyed.

Straightaway, Giles leapt up off his chair. "Xander's **_what?!_** In a coma, you say? How did that happen? And why?! Bloody hell, w-w-what's going on over there in Los Angeles?"

"It's a long story, not all of which is your business. Just tell Buffy to call me, I'll be waiting for her to get in touch." There was an abrupt click! as Angel hung up on the other end of the transatlantic line.

"Angel? **_ANGEL!_** Oh, you undead sodding arse..." Rupert cursed, before whirling to face Andrew. "You heard?"

Wells nodded. "You want me to call Buffy, tell her to get over here right now?"

Giles nodded, and then decided 'to hell with it'. "Call Willow as well. Tell her she can teleport here from Rio de Janeiro, whenever she's ready; she'll want to be present for when Buffy calls Angel, I'm sure."

Andrew drew back in surprise. "Yeah, and I, uh, I've got her cell number for emergencies, but I thought you said-"

"Never mind what I said before, boy. Now hop to it," Giles ordered rather roughly.

Andrew quickly complied; he wasn't dumb enough to argue with the Big Boss whenever Giles got into this sort of mood, after all.

* * *

**Great Russell Street, London**

**A short while later**

After Buffy ran across the street, heedless of the rushing traffic – what was **_with_** these people driving on the wrong side of the road, sheesh! – she burst into the Council headquarters, only to stop dead in her tracks.

Because Dawn was also present in the lobby, and she was demanding answers from Andrew. Answers the young man didn't have, from the looks of things. The blonde Slayer then thought to herself, { _Damn it. This might get nasty..._ }

That was because the relationship between the two sisters had deteriorated into little more than shouting matches and insults lately, thanks in part to that meeting in Rome four months ago. And while Buffy regretted some of the things she'd said that day at the Café Greco, she still didn't think it was any of Xander's business who she dated – and she **_definitely_** didn't agree with his opinion that she needed psychiatric help to get over her need to find a guy who had more than a touch of a monster within him.

{ _Gotta admit, I definitely shouldn't have told Dawnie that I called Xander a wimp directly to his face that day,_ } Buffy thought uncomfortably, as her sister caught sight of her and scowled angrily. { _But I was just so damn mad..._ }

"It's Saturday night. Shouldn't you be with your boyfriend, the demon mafia Godfather?" Dawn asked scathingly.

{ _Ouch._ } "Dawn, please. I don't know if you've heard-" Buffy started to say.

"That Xander's in a coma, somewhere in L.A.? Yeah, I heard. Believe it or not, some people around here don't lie directly to my face – like you did," Dawn cut her off, the glare growing more heated.

"What are you talking about?" her sister demanded.

"Cordelia? Off on vacation with her ex-boyfriend, when she was actually in a coma all along? Is **_that _**ringing any bells for you?" Dawn hissed malevolently.

{ _Aw, crud!_ } Somewhat stunned, Buffy inadvertently stepped back. "How did you-?"

"Andrew just confessed to the whole thing, of course! He was right there when the rest of you decided to lie about Cordy to Xander, remember?!" Dawn snarled, which made Buffy send a brief glare Andrew's way. "Hey, I'm still talking here! Buffy, you-"

"Not now," Buffy cut her off without a moment's hesitation, her body already in motion as she headed for Giles's private office. Dawn and Andrew followed her, the female teen still seething and the male nerd still terrified that he was going to get caught in the crossfire of the upcoming battle.

"Giles, what's going on? How the hell did Xander end up in a coma?!" Buffy demanded, after she burst into his office without knocking.

"Errr, why ask me? If you've heard that much, Buffy, surely you must also have heard that Angel wanted to speak only to **_you_** about it?" Giles replied somewhat snarkily, getting up from behind his desk after Dawn and Andrew came in as well.

"Angel? What's he got to do with this?" Buffy looked surprised to hear that.

Andrew gulped at the annoyed look that his boss instantly shot his way. He said to Giles, "Uh, she sorta interrupted me on the phone as soon as I said that Xander was in a coma, and I never got the chance to mention that part – before she hung up and started racing over here?"

Buffy briefly looked embarrassed, but quickly recovered. "Okay, well, I'm listening now. What else did Angel say?"

"Nothing," Giles made no attempt to hide his disapproval as he said that. "Just to pass on the message to you, and for you to contact him as soon as possible."

"Hey, wait – how do we **_know_** he's actually telling the truth? I mean, according to Andrew, Angel was the one who originally came up with the idea to lie to Xander about how Cordelia was on that so-called 'vacation'. So how can we be certain this isn't just another convenient lie?" Dawn demanded, as Buffy looked at her in annoyance.

"Because I checked it out for myself," Willow's voice said from the office doorway, before the redhead entered the room as well. She looked tired as she added, "Hey, everyone."

"Willow. I'm glad you're here," Giles greeted her warmly. "Please, sit down – you look virtually exhausted."

"Uh, yeah, guess I am kinda pooped; teleportation takes a lot out of you if you're not, y'know, high on the black magicks," Willow confessed. "Even just from Scotland to here, it's still not easy."

"Scotland? I thought you were in Brazil, um, uh, wh-what were you doing there?" Rupert demanded.

"I needed to get away from South America. That safehouse was starting to feel like a prison. And don't you **_dare_** look at me like that, Giles!" Willow said, glaring at him for a moment as Rupert opened his mouth to chastise her. "**_You_ **try living incommunicado that way for all those months, knowing there's a barrage of hate mail and angry families of dead Slayers looking for you!"

"Ah, yes, well..." Giles trailed off, conceding the point.

"So, Willow, what did you mean when you said you checked it out for yourself, about Xander being in a coma?" Dawn asked coolly. "And please don't lie to me for my own good, the way you did to him back then!"

"I couldn't contact Xander telepathically. And, uh..." Willow looked a bit confused about the 'don't lie to me for my own good' thing, but then quickly managed to connect the dots together. "Oh, yeah – that thing about Cordelia becoming a vegetable! I'm sorry, Dawn, but after everything that had just happened in Sunnydale, I didn't think-"

"Yeah, you certainly didn't," Dawn cut her off angrily, as Willow flinched at the ugly expression on the teenager's face.

"Evening, all!" an unfamiliar male voice said from the doorway in a distinctive East End accent, providing an unexpected but much-needed distraction from the topic of conversation. "Got a special delivery for the Council from Alexander LaVelle Harris. Which is you lot, innit?"

"Who are you? And how, how the devil did you get in here?" Giles demanded, wondering if the Council's security people had all decided to take the evening off or something.

"Name's Shaman Bond, guvnor. Mighta heard o' me, eh?" the large, heavyset-looking man smirked and glanced around at everyone in the room.

"Oh! Yeah, I, I've heard of you. Before he left London, Xander mentioned your name a few times," Andrew semi-stammered. "He said that you were, uh, someone he trusted..."

"Brill ta hear, squire," Shaman grinned at him, showing his huge, tombstone-like teeth.

"How, uh, how exactly do you know Xander, Mr. Bond?" Giles asked, assuming that Harris had made some sort of preparations for granting this man access to the building prior to disappearing.

"Met 'im awhile back, down in Surrey," Shaman said promptly. "We became mates when he 'elped me out of a spot o' bother, and was even kind enough to share his grub with me afterwards. Told 'im to give us a bell if he ever needed help, and eventually he did. Special delivery from Rome 'n all!" He tossed the small package to Buffy, and then shrugged. "Got his message for it to be delivered today; and 'fore you ask, that's all I know. Right, best be off; been a long day, and I'm feeling a bit knackered. TTFN, 'n all that!"

Buffy stared at the package and then at Shaman, who was already vanishing out the door. "Hey, wait! I still have questions-" She would have said more, but Dawn leaned over and yanked the package out of her hands. "Hey!"

"Oh, spare me! I get worse looks from my Latin teacher, whenever I mix up declensional nouns with ablative adjectives," Dawn said crossly, as she ripped the paper wrapping apart. Then she held up what was in the package. "It's a videotape!"

"Giles? You gotta have a VCR around here somewhere, right?" Willow asked, looking around the office.

"Uh, who uses a video cassette anymore?" Andrew wanted to know. "Everything's on DVD now!"

Everyone ignored him, as Giles quickly dug an unused VCR machine out of storage before Willow hooked it up to a TV monitor. After the tape was inserted into the machine, Buffy hit Play and Xander's face appeared on the screen.

"Hey, everyone, it's me. Xander," Harris said, looking out at them all. "And if you're watching this, that means I'm either in a coma, or dead, or...whatever. A couple of things before we get into that, though – first of all...as of today, September 23rd, 2003, I hereby officially quit working for the Council of Watchers of Great Britain-"

"WHAT?!" Dawn exclaimed, as a shocked-looking Buffy hit Pause on the remote control.

"Giles? Did you know about this?" Willow demanded, looking around at the Englishman.

"Well, uh, no, I-I-I didn't," Giles stammered, looking rather flummoxed. Then he turned accusingly toward his aide. "Andrew?"

"Well, I...kinda suspected. I-I mean, there's been nothing on his expense account since, um, uh, October, I think," Andrew hastened to say. "But Xander, h-he never said anything to me about officially quitting the organization! So, I figured, ah, no need to rock the boat..."

"You still should have said something to us, anyway!" Buffy scowled at him.

"Yeah? You mean, like you shoulda said something about Cordelia?" Dawn glared at her, even as the Slayer glowered back at her sister over the comment. "Geez, I bet this was when Xander found out how you people lied to him about that, and he decided enough was enough. That he couldn't trust you guys anymore. Yeah, it's no **_wonder_** he quit..."

"Dawn – don't, please," Willow said, looking hurt.

"Buffy, uh, d-do get on with playing the rest of the tape," Giles instructed the woman in question, trying to ignore all the soap-operatic antics. He stammered, "We need to, to, to find out all we can before you call Angel, a-a-and learn what he knows about why Xander's in a coma."

"Right," Buffy agreed, before pressing Play once more.

Xander's image came alive again, and he said, "This is my choice, and the reason I'm doing this is because I want to do something **_right_ **after all the...crap, during the past seven years. I know I might die doing it, but strangely enough...that doesn't seem to matter all that much, at this point..."

* * *

**Restricted area of the coma ward, Wolfram & Hart private hospital**

**A short while later**

Cordelia was sitting in a chair she'd dragged into the room, holding Xander's hand in hers. Harris himself didn't notice, of course; as he was in a comatose state, and would be for quite some time to come.

Still, even though his conscious mind was asleep, Xander's collective unconscious was still very much active and keeping itself busy. Right at that moment, in a dream, the one-eyed man was approaching the residence of that shaman in Zanzibar; the same one who had later directed him to go back to the U.S. and approach the Conduit, if he wished to save Cordelia's life.

"Ghosts are everywhere on this island," Xander's guide named Mohamed said within the dreamscape, speaking in Swahili and nervously adjusting his hat. "Zanzibar has been ruled by the Portuguese, Omanis, and British – but the shetani, the spirits, never lose their power, no matter which empire claims ownership of our land. Neither do those who speak with them."

Xander nodded; he had heard that ancient ghosts haunted a network of coastline caves in Kizimkazi, and that the witch doctors around here used the rocks to somehow commune with the restless spirits. "How much further, my friend?" Harris then replied in the same language.

"Not far. But I truly wish that you would reconsider your actions," Mohamed said earnestly. The black man rather liked the American, as Harris was someone who could actually speak the language and didn't treat every African he met as some sort of wild, uneducated savage. "This shaman you seek, he is said to have powerful juju. I fear for your safety if you enter his presence, I do."

"Thank you for that, Mohamed. But my course is set. And I promise, I will do my best not to make him get annoyed with me," Xander's lips quirked upwards.

The pair soon arrived at the cave entrance, and Mohamed pointed towards something that looked like a mud hut not far away. "This is as far as I go, my friend. May the cave shetani guide you and protect you in your quest."

Xander smiled, clasped forearms with his guide, and said, "Thank you for your help. And may the shetani protect and guide you with your own path." Harris then continued on towards the mud hut, as Mohamed turned around and vanished into the early evening darkness.

The one-eyed man was about to knock on the door, when a male voice said in Swahili, "Enter."

Shrugging to himself, Xander did so and said politely to the shaman, "Thank you for seeing me, and allowing me into your home."

"You speak our language well, for a white man," the witch doctor replied, appraising Xander carefully.

"Again, I thank you. The credit belongs to a woman – a girl – I met in Kenya. Nonetheless, three months is not very long to learn a new language, and I know that I am not that good at it yet," Xander replied formally.

The shaman nodded. "You are honest as well as brave to seek me out. Very well. Speak. Why have you come here?"

Xander explained as best he could about Cordelia, and what had happened to his ex-girlfriend thanks to Jasmine's hijacking of her body and the subsequent birth of the rogue Power. The shaman frowned, recalling those moments last year when his free will had been stolen; and that was enough to make him decide to help his visitor, to the best of his ability.

Not long afterwards, the ritual to foresee the future was carried out – and Xander learned of Cordelia's upcoming death, along with the Fang Gang's demise, thanks to their assassination of all the members of the Circle of the Black Thorn. The shaman frowned again and said, "This woman, who will die soon – she is very special to you."

"Yes," Xander said in reply, his mind still reeling from the information the witch doctor had just imparted to him. "Yes, she is."

"Then that part of your fate has not changed."

Xander frowned. "I do not understand."

The shaman gestured for Harris to look into the bowl containing animal bones, spit and the former Zeppo's blood. And suddenly, understanding poured into the young man's brain like a tidal wave.

His original destiny had been ripped apart in order for Jasmine to birth herself into the world, he saw that now. Much to his shock and disbelief, Xander perceived how he and Cordelia would never have broken up, otherwise; and he would have moved away with her to Los Angeles after high school, in order to help his girlfriend achieve her dreams. He had never been meant to meet Anya, apart from a couple of times not long before Graduation – once after the vengeance demon's amulet had been smashed, and, again, just in time for the Scooby Gang to learn vital details about the Mayor's Ascension.

Xander also saw how the whole Vision Girl thing never would have happened, if he'd been at that Hollywood party when Cordelia had briefly bumped into Angel. And while the actress gig wouldn't have gone past a few guest shots on TV shows, the Chase woman's beauty would have eventually led to a successful career as a model.

Then they would have moved to New York. He would have stepped up and become Cordelia's manager, looking out for her interests better than anyone else. They would have gotten married and had two kids; a boy and a girl, who would have been named Jesse and Joyce. They would have spent the rest of their lives together, without battling the forces of Evil every week, and he would have eventually died at the age of ninety-six; surrounded by his children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren. His wife would have followed him, less than six months later.

That was the life he should have lived, Harris suddenly understood with a clarity that was no less horrifying than it was astonishing. The life which had been stolen from him, thanks to Jasmine and Skip.

{ _So what happened?_ } Xander asked himself, swallowing hard. { _If that was supposed to be my future, then – what made it all fall apart?_ }

Straightaway, he saw it in his mind's eye; the night he'd kissed Willow. The so-called clothes fluke, during senior year. A slight twist and push on the Chaos magic already in his system as a result of that Ethan Rayne guy, by Jasmine's silvery demon henchman – which had led him down the path that fallen Power had engineered to get Cordelia away from him, and Sunnydale. This included Skip magically reinforcing Cordelia's bitchier traits to make her less inclined to forgive him for his actions, or even talk to him after she got out of that hospital.

{ _No way. It **can't** be that simple!_ } Harris thought in disbelief and revulsion. { _The plan's too full of holes, too many things could have gone wrong; that Skip guy **couldn't** have left so much up to chance..._ }

True enough; and so, more images appeared in Xander's mind. He saw the various contingency plans which that mercenary demon had had up his sleeve, if the whole cheating and rebar thing hadn't panned out correctly.

For example, him getting killed and turned by Vamp Harmony after Graduation, and Cordelia quickly fleeing to the relative safety of L.A.; after the Xander vampire had become fixated on slaughtering its (former) girlfriend –

Or Cordy getting a free four-year scholarship to UCLA after he had gotten run over by a bus, where she would have met Angel during one of his cases and eventually inherited the visions; after Doyle kissed her, just before dying from the wounds inflicted by a Kailiff demon –

Or Skip hitting Cordelia with a similar sort of spell to that which he had been dosed with, after they arrived in Los Angeles; the demon leading his girlfriend to cheat on him and splitting them up that way, prior to the night she'd bumped into Angel at her friend Margo's party –

And there had been more. Perhaps unsurprisingly, there had been quite a number of different scenarios being held as a reserve option by the bad guys. Nearly all of which had involved his extremely painful death, after he had outlived his usefulness.

{ _Oh_ _yeah, I get it now,_ } Xander thought dully, after perceiving all of the possibilities that Jasmine's lackey had come up with to make sure that the high school romance in question ended badly. { _I was never anything but a pawn, something to make sure Cordelia ended up completely on the outs with all her rich friends; that fucking merc musta figured out how none of those bitches would want to help her after Cordy dated a guy like me, and then ended up completely broke. So we never actually had a chance; our relationship was doomed, like right from the start..._ }

Much to his surprise, though, as if to disagree with that assessment – the visions suddenly changed. Xander saw possibility after possibility, worlds and circumstances where, despite the odds, Cordelia had become useless to Jasmine as the Mother, and there had been no mystical interference from Team Evil in either of their lives. Like...

A world where both he and his girlfriend had accidentally ended up stuck in Pylea after their junior year of high school, a demon dimension isolated enough that Skip simply couldn't find them in time; and so the rogue Power decided to go with a backup plan involving Doyle's ex-wife instead –

A world where the Sunnydale business named 'Party Town Costumes' got burned down, and both he and his girlfriend had gotten Halloween outfits from Ethan's Costume Shop; and then, thanks to the mage's chaos spell, Cordelia (a.k.a. the Greek goddess Aphrodite) had become utterly unsuitable for the purpose Jasmine had had in mind –

A world where Cordelia had been Called as the Slayer, immediately upon Kendra's death in the school library after that fight with Drusilla; and her altered body with its enhanced healing was now completely incompatible with the rogue Power's evil designs. Perhaps unsurprisingly, thanks to his Slayer fixation, he'd never even looked at another woman for the rest of his life –

A world where Cordelia had developed medical problems thanks to a placental cyst, resulting in infertility; and after Buffy had been forced to kill Dark Willow, he had eventually moved to L.A. and somehow run into his old girlfriend again, with whom he'd broken up amicably shortly after high school was over –

And, just like before, there was more than just those isolated examples. So much more. So many different possible timelines, so many different alternate realities. The visions all started to blur together, the information overload too much for any human brain to process and understand, much less remember.

Thus, Xander had fainted that evening, before the shaman had eventually woken him up and sent him on his way to the City of Angels, with the instructions on how to save the comatose Cordelia of this reality from her fate.

And here and now, sitting next to his bed in that Wolfram & Hart hospital room, the recently awakened Ms. Chase **_still_** had no idea how to answer her own question: "Where do we go from here, Dweeb Boy?"

TBC...


	5. Visitations

See Part One for disclaimer and details. Hello everyone, and welcome to the latest update! Thanks to everybody who's reviewed and sent feedback, as always it's greatly appreciated. Please keep it coming! Not much else to say, except that even though Xander is still vegetating in his coma, important elements of the story are being set up in this chapter...and there _**will **_be conflict and argument a-plenty! Hope you enjoy...

* * *

**Part Five: Visitations**

**Hancock Park, Los Angeles**

**January 24****th****, 2004**

More or less alone in the night-time park, Ethan held up a candle and chanted in Latin, "Do not deny me, Spirit Guide. Let the wisdom of those who have passed be showered upon me."

The Spirit Guide appeared in the form of a bright cloud, above and in front of the British mage. It replied in the same language, "Such secrets belong to time and the dark regions. To reveal them would bring Chaos down upon the living Earth."

{ _And the problem with that is what, exactly?_ } Ethan thought irritably. He had decided to get a second opinion regarding Wo-Pang's prognosis, and like Giles had done five years ago, he had chosen to call upon the Spirit Guides; oracles who existed outside of space and time, and entities who might know how to help him.

Rayne decided to try another approach. "I am told that I am dying, that my soul shall soon no longer be. Is this the truth?"

"Yes."

Ethan inadvertently gulped over the straightforward confirmation. "If I fail to avert the destruction of my soul, what shall be the consequences?"

"Thy name shall be removed from the Akashic Records, and none will remember that you ever were," the Spirit Guide replied, which was enough to make Ethan gasp in true horror.

Because, if the Spirit Guide spoke truly, then his upcoming fate was worse than mere death; _**far**_ worse. There would be no form of afterlife for him, not even the worst of all the hell dimensions out there; just empty oblivion. Ethan Rayne would cease to exist, in every sense of the word.

{ _Hell with that,_ } Ethan thought forcefully. He then said, "I have also been told that had I sought help after fragmenting my soul, the damage could have been prevented. So, then, can you send me back in time and give me the opportunity to accomplish this?"

"No," the Spirit Guide said vehemently. "And seek not such a thing, for that too will bring Chaos upon the living Earth!"

The warning fell upon deaf ears, though. Ethan replied, "If you cannot help me to achieve my goal, can you advise me on who can?"

"Enough of this! You will disturb me with your questions no longer!" the Spirit Guide said angrily. A strong wind started blowing, and the cloud subsequently moved away and up into the sky. It then split in two, and both halves disappeared up into the firmament.

{ _Well, fat lot of good that did._ } Rayne wasn't pleased with the situation, as he started packing up his supplies before he left the park. Still, he knew there were other sources of information in this city; mystical and otherwise. And since it was his personal survival at stake, there was not a moment to lose in gaining access to them.

* * *

**Roughly 35,000 feet somewhere above the Atlantic Ocean**

**An hour later**

Buffy and Willow were heading for the U.S. aboard a red-eye flight from Heathrow to LAX, via JFK in New York. They were alone, as no one else in the Council could come; well, no one in the old Scooby Gang, anyway. Dawn had school on Monday, and so she couldn't leave the country just like that – despite her loud and somewhat heated protests otherwise. Giles likewise couldn't simply abandon his post in London, as that would mean leaving Andrew in charge of the organization; and not even Wells himself wanted that to happen.

Just their luck, news of an impending apocalypse would come in – and Andrew wouldn't have the first clue on how to prevent the end of the world.

"So, uh, I couldn't help noticing you and Dawnie have...problems, nowadays?" Willow asked uncertainly, staring at her best friend.

"It's more than just a 'problem', Will. I'm beginning to think that she hates me," Buffy sighed forlornly.

"I know, Buff. I mean – I was there, I heard her. She's angry on Xander's behalf, and I guess Dawn sorta has a right to be," Willow sighed as well. "We _**should**_ have told her the truth about Cordelia, long before now – or you should have, anyway, since I was stuck hiding in Brazil."

"I know, I – well, I sorta just forgot, all right? It's been a pretty busy year so far, and...I guess it simply didn't feel that important," Buffy gestured uncomfortably, glad that no one else could hear their conversation. The first class compartment was completely deserted, other than the two of them. "And personally, I still don't get why Dawn is making such a big fuss about this! It's not like my little sister's been talking to Cordelia since she left Sunnydale, right?"

"Well, no, but I _**have**_ mentioned things to Dawnie here and there. And, uh, Cordy and Dawn used to be close back when she and Xander were dating," Willow said hesitantly. She believed that, anyway, thanks to the spell the monks of the Order of Dagon had performed way back when. "That summer before the start of senior year, for example; I remember how Cordelia volunteered for babysitting duty all the time, while you were away in L.A."

"Really? I never knew that!" Buffy seemed to be surprised by that news.

"Yeah, uh, I remember how Xander once made a Dr. Evil 'mini-me' joke about it. But only the one time; neither Cordy nor Dawn liked the comparison," Willow shrugged with momentary amusement in her eyes, before she got serious again. "And I guess Dawnie had a point after we saw Xander's videotape, Buff; we _**didn't**_ do enough to try to help Cordelia, while we were staying at Angel's hotel. We, we just took his word for it that he was doing everything possible for her, and left it at that."

"Well, we pretty much had to," Buffy frowned. "I mean, hey – what else could we have done?"

"Uh, just off the top of my head? I could have tried to enter Cordelia's mind and make her wake up, pull her out of it like I did with you. Back when Glory kidnapped Dawn and you went catatonic, remember?" Willow asked, looking away.

Buffy's jaw dropped. That possibility simply hadn't occurred to her before now. "Oh."

"Yeah. Y'know, now that I come to think of it – if we had simply told Xander the truth back then? I'll bet you a mani-pedi that _**he**_would have thought of that. He may have been grieving over Anya, but Xander still would have turned himself inside out in order to help Cordelia. I'd almost forgotten how he felt about her, to be honest," Willow shrugged again. "But after seeing that tape, listening to what he said about why he did this – it convinced me that deep down, Xander never, ever really quit being in love with Cordy."

"He _**loved**_ her?" Buffy sounded absolutely stunned.

"Yeah – and present tense, Buffy. Somewhere deep inside, he _**still **_loves her. He has to! I mean, why else would the guy really put himself in a coma, for an ex-girlfriend that he hasn't spoken to for nearly five years?" Willow asked her best friend. "Assuming that Angel's information – what he said that Whistler guy told everyone – is accurate, anyway. And that reminds me – what with the danger he's in now if Angelus ever gets loose again, I really ought to look into permanently anchoring his soul, somehow..."

{ _Yeah. I only wish you could have done that back in high school; everything would have ended up so different,_ } Buffy thought unhappily to herself, before the female pair discussed what they should do once they arrived in the City of Angels.

* * *

**R&D labs, Wolfram & Hart building**

**A while earlier**

"Angel did _**what**_?!" Gunn demanded loudly.

Fred narrowed her eyes over Gunn's disbelief and Lorne's wide-eyed stare, after she had told them what had happened in Cordelia's hospital room. "I told you, Angel messed with all our minds and made us completely forget about his son! Connor!"

"Sorry, cupcake, but I don't have clue-one who and what you're talking about," the former Host of Caritas said, shaking his head.

"I know. And that's the worst part of it," Fred responded angrily. After she'd left the hospital and had gotten a chance to integrate the repressed memories into her mind, her temper had gotten a lot worse. The physicist added, "At least Wesley and I can remember how we were violated that way. Whereas you and Charles don't! You're, you're like rape victims who were given so many roofies, you can't even recall what happened!"

"Hey, now, Fred – slow down, I mean...rape victims?" Gunn looked at her oddly, finding the comparison very difficult to swallow.

"Don't tell me to slow down, Charles!" Fred yelled at him, causing to the lawyer to recoil in shock. "What – you think I'm wrong, or a liar? If you do, go talk to Wesley about it! He's already packing up his stuff in order to get out of here! And if it wasn't for my promise to Cordelia to help wake up that Xander Harris guy, I'd be out of here as well!"

"Wes is leaving?" Lorne looked surprised as all heck to hear that.

"Yeah, he is," Angel said, entering the research lab. He was still hurting after Cordelia's unpleasant rejection inside that hospital room, hurting a lot; but he had managed to temporarily put all that aside for now. "Guys, we need to talk..."

"And I need to be elsewhere," Fred said coldly, giving Angel the evil eye. "I'm going to find Wes before he walks out the door; I gotta make sure he gives me full access to everything in the research vaults for after he's gone. I can't trust that his successor around here will be willing to do me that courtesy." She quickly swept out of the laboratory, not looking back once.

"Angel-cake, Fred just told us-" Lorne started to say.

"Yeah, I know. And it's true, every single word of it," Angel interrupted, before he pseudo-sighed hopelessly. "I did what I _**had **_to do; but unfortunately, Fred doesn't see it that way. Wes and Cordy, either."

Gunn shook his head. "So, you really mind-wiped us all? And, uh...I mean, now that the cat's outta the bag, are you gonna undo that spell for me and Lorne as well?"

"Yes to the first part, but as for the second – I can't, I didn't cast the spell and I don't know who did. Or even how to undo it," Angel shook his head. It wasn't like he knew where another Orlon Window was conveniently located, after all.

"Well, then, next best thing. _**Tell**_ us what we don't know, stud-muffin," Lorne suggested, staring at Angel intently.

The vampire hesitated, but then said, "My son's name is Connor..."

Angel told them everything. How Darla had been brought back as a human, and then vamped by Drusilla, and then he'd screwed his reborn sire senseless one night. How she'd become pregnant and left; and after returning nine months later, she'd staked herself so that their baby might live. Then Angel talked about Holtz.

Wesley's betrayal.

Quor-toth.

His son's reappearance as a bitter, hostile, murderous teenager.

His many attempts to reach through to the boy, always resulting in failure and defeat.

The final agonizing decision to let Connor go forever, by taking the deal offered by the zombified woman known as Lilah Morgan.

"This is nuts," Gunn shook his head in disbelief. "I, I don't remember hardly _**any**_ of that! Man, are you _**sure**_ you aren't yanking our chains here? Even just a little bit?"

"Go ask Fred that if you want, Gunn. Personally, I wouldn't advise going anywhere near Wes; he can remember now how you two practically hated each other," Angel shrugged.

"Okay, that's it. You need to sing for me, sugar-buns," Lorne said grimly, even as Gunn gaped at his boss. "It sounds like things are screwed up, big-time – and if I'm supposed to help you, then you need to bare your soul for me, like pronto!"

Angel didn't think that would help, but decided to oblige the anagogic demon anyway. "Her name was Lola, she was a showgirl, with yellow feathers in her hair and a dress cut down to there-"

"Okay, whoa, that's enough," Lorne said at once, cutting him off. "Seriously, pudding – no need to give both Mr. Manilow and me nightmares!"

"You got something outta that?" Angel stared at his demon friend doubtfully.

"Yeah – as in you need to get to your office, right now. You got a visitor; and before you ask, that's all I know," Lorne said, just as Angel opened his mouth. "Go on, git!"

Shrugging, Angel, got. Gunn then said to Lorne, "Man, I still can't believe this..."

"Neither can I, Slim – nonetheless, it's all true, apparently. Not even a hint of deceit in Angel's aura just now. And if you'll excuse me, I need some alone time to think," the green-skinned demon shook his head sadly. "Gotta decide on whether or not I'm still gonna be working here in the morning."

"You're thinking of leaving, like Wes and Fred?"

"Aren't you?" Lorne asked Gunn, walking out of the lab and pulling out his cell phone to cancel all of his appointments for today.

{ _Good question,_ } Charles thought to himself, looking around the now-empty lab. He felt betrayed, certainly, and suddenly found himself in a less than forgiving mood with Angel (for screwing around with his memories, if nothing else). But God help him, Gunn _**liked**_ the lawyer upgrade which working here had resulted in. { _Am I willing to give that up, simply on a matter of principle?_ }

The black man didn't know the answer to that question, which suddenly terrified him a lot more than anything Fred, Angel and Lorne had said just now.

* * *

**Main lobby, Wolfram & Hart building**

**Two minutes earlier**

Faith the Vampire Slayer was in a bad mood, as she entered what she couldn't help thinking of as enemy territory.

Right now, it seemed like only yesterday that she had arrived here to meet that trio of evil lawyers, who had hired her to kill Angel – Lindsey McDonald, Lilah Morgan and Lee Mercer. Faith briefly wondered if those three were still around, but then quickly dismissed that thought. Angel would rather stake himself than trust those three not to stab him in the back, at the first opportunity.

{ _Shoulda done something about them, maybe, before that so-called trial when I gave myself up,_ } Faith thought philosophically. { _Oh well, hopefully all of 'em have gotten what they deserve by now. _}

At that moment, a security guard moved to intercept her. The Slayer sent him a look that said 'don't fuck with me or you'll be sorry', but the grunt was either too loyal or too stupid to let that stop him – so Faith just knocked him unconscious before he could pull out his pistol, and then continued on her way.

Hey, reformed; _**not**_ a doormat.

"Hi! Can I help you?" a somewhat ditzy-looking blonde (who looked way too pale for Faith's liking) said from behind her desk, which had quite the collection of unicorns on it.

"You're a vampire," the Chosen One said, scowling, her Slayer-sense suddenly going wild.

"Yeah, and-? Oh, wait, I recognize you! Well, vaguely. You hung around with Buffy Summers and her gang of losers during high school, didn't you?" the undead version of Harmony Kendall asked.

"Yeah. Sort of." Faith squinted at Harmony. "Hey, did I know you when you were alive? You look kinda familiar..." Then the Chosen One's eyes narrowed. "Oh, yeah, now I remember! It's Harmony, right? Hell, Angel even mentioned you during one of his prison visits. You were one of Queen C's sheep, who totally gave her crap for dating Xander after they broke up!"

"Hey! That was a long time ago, and I was never a sheep," Harmony retorted angrily. "What do you want, anyway?"

"Here to see your boss. You got a problem with that, dust pile?" Faith said threateningly.

"What are you-" Harmony started to say, and then she recoiled as the Slayer pulled a stake out from the back of her pants. The former Cordette had seen Buffy do that way too many times in Sunnydale not to recognize the move. "Oh my God, you're a Slayer! Oh, oh – I heard about you, you're that Faith person!"

"Yeah, I am. And everything you heard? Believe it," Faith grimaced at the soulless blonde, itching to stake her just on general principles. "Now tell Angel I'm here, before there's one less bloodsucker in the world!"

Harmony nervously jabbed the intercom. "Boss? Boss! There's a homicidal Slayer out here who wants to see you!" There was no reply. "Boss?" Still nothing. So Harmony just shrugged helplessly. "Uh..."

"Page him. I'll wait for him in there," Faith said shortly, already heading into Angel's office.

"Uh, wait; you can't go in there without my say-so!" Harmony insisted, looking indignant from the way Faith was treating her – like she didn't matter, or something.

The Chosen One stopped, an unholy gleam appearing in her eyes and the stake appearing in her right hand again. "Yeah? Then maybe I oughta do my duty out here first..."

"On second thoughts, go, go! I'm totally sure Angel won't mind," Harmony backpedalled at once, shrinking back into her chair.

Frowning, Faith put away the stake and went in to the ensouled vampire's office. She looked around, before going over to the massive window; _**damn**_, but this place had a sweet view of the entire city. Saturday night in L.A., the whole town was lit up like a beacon...

"Faith?"

The Slayer turned around at once, smiling. "Been a while, Fang. Got time to talk to an old friend?"

Angel came up and gave her a fond hug. Faith hugged him back, despite still not being a big fan of such things; and as she stepped backwards, he gave her an appraising look. "For you, I've got all the time in the world. But what brings you back to L.A.? And to Wolfram & Hart? Last year, you said..."

"Yeah, yeah, and I haven't changed my mind on all o' that. But some shit happened in Cleveland – still pissed about being assigned there, by the way – and I had to bail."

"Your boyfriend? Robin Wood, I think his name was?" Angel asked questioningly.

"War-time romance, pal. Didn't work out," Faith said succinctly, choosing not to go into details about her ex. "And just outta interest, how safe is it for me in this town nowadays? I know you said you were gonna fix things as far as me busting out of that prison in Stockton was concerned, but..."

"Already done. You've got nothing to worry about," Angel said with a smile. "I had all records of your conviction mystically sealed or destroyed, and then I gave orders that everyone in authority who knew you'd been in jail – cops, prison guards, you name it – be made to forget that. So as far as everyone outside our little circle is concerned, Faith Lehane is not and never has been a prison convict."

"Thanks, Angel. I seriously appreciate that," Faith smiled back, feeling like a great weight had been dropped from her shoulders. As previously hinted, she had known that the previous administration around here had bought the trial, and arranged to have put her away in revenge for betraying them; so it was a relief to know that piece of her past had finally been fixed. Avenged. Whatever.

"You're welcome. But like I said, what brings you back to L.A.?" Angel asked again. "And what exactly happened in Cleveland?"

Faith exhaled. "That Dana girl – you remember her, right?"

"Vividly," Angel replied, recalling what the crazy Slayer had done to Spike. Namely, sawn off both his hands with surgical precision, before attempting to stake him...

"Well, she said – ah, hell, never mind what she said. But Loony Girl reminded me of Xander, and how I freaking _**forgot**_ to tell him the truth about Cordelia," Faith spat, very annoyed with herself. "Figured I'd swing by and check on her, before telling him the news – assuming he hasn't heard it already by now." The Slayer then saw the expression on Angel's face and said, "What?"

The vampire went over to the mini-bar, and poured himself a shot of Irish whiskey. He said, "Faith, Cordelia woke up from her coma earlier today."

"Yeah? Hey, that's great!" Faith figured that might earn her a bit of forgiveness, once she told Harris the situation.

"Xander did it by taking Cordelia's place, and now it might be a year or more before he wakes up," Angel added, before downing the alcohol all in one gulp.

Faith's jaw dropped, and it took her a few moments before she could say, "That's – not so great..."

* * *

**Restricted area of the coma ward, Wolfram & Hart private hospital**

**A short while later**

Someone knocked on the door, causing Cordelia (who had dozed off at some point) to wake up with a jerk. "Huh? What? Who's there?"

The door to the hospital room slowly opened, and instead of the doctor or nurse which the Seer had expected – there was a not-so-welcome blast from the past, in the form of Faith. "Cordelia?"

"What the hell are _**you**_ doing here?!" Cordy thundered angrily, automatically shielding Xander's body with her own.

"Hey! White flag, already. Didn't come to cause trouble or nothing," Faith said defensively. "Angel told me how you don't remember the last time we met?"

"What? Hey, I remember what happened the last time we met just fine! Your fist almost cracked my cheekbone in half!" Cordelia replied viciously.

Faith sighed, shaking her head. "No, not what I meant. Last year, when you were all possessed and evil? I busted out of that prison once Wes told me that Angel was gone, and Angelus was loose. Not sure anyone's told you about that?"

{ _What the hell is she talking about?_ } "What the hell are you talking about?" Cordelia demanded, still an 'I think it, I say it' type of girl at heart.

"Yeah, figured as much. Look, I'm hungry and kinda thirsty; it was a long trip from Cleveland, and I didn't wanna stay at that damn law firm even a moment longer than I had to. So, you want me to bring you anything from the cafeteria before we talk? Angel runs this place, so I'm pretty sure it'll have something better than the usual hospital slop," Faith shrugged.

Cordelia didn't know how to respond to that. "Why are you talking to me like we're, I dunno, _**friends**_ or something?"

"Because even though you don't remember it, or probably didn't even mean it since you were evil and everything, far as I'm concerned...we settled a few things while I was in L.A. last year. And hey, we got us a Xander in common." She gestured over to the comatose, one-eyed man. "Believe it or not, I was gonna tell him about you being in that coma the moment I heard about it; but at the time, he was fast asleep in your bed at Angel's hotel, and I frickin' forgot the next day. And over the next three weeks, it totally slipped my mind before Xander shipped out to Cleveland, and then he left the country. Otherwise, he'd have woken you up ages ago. Figure this is a chance for me to sorta make amends, ya know what I mean?"

{ _Make amends? To who, me or him?_ } Cordelia suddenly remembered Whistler's warning, not so long ago. { _Be ready for a fight when Harris's so-called friends hear about this, and come charging over here to take him away from you people._ } "You're not taking him away from me to Slayer Central, or wherever. You, or anyone else. We clear on that?"

"Crystal." Faith shrugged and smirked. "But hey, that's not really my call. And now I'm kinda lookin' forward to seeing what happens when B and Red show up, ya know? Angel told me to tell you they're coming here from England – should be here by tomorrow morning, at the latest."

"Really. So whose side are you gonna be on, in that fight?" Cordelia wanted to know.

"Who, me?" Faith's face suddenly dimpled, much to Cordy's surprise. "Oh, hey, I gotta be Switzerland on this one. Because that prison shrink tried to get me to take an interest in spectator sports – and sure as hell, this one's gonna be a doozy!"

"Fine. Then make yourself useful and bring me something from the cafeteria, like you offered before. A chocolate-chip muffin and a cappuccino. Make it...cinnamon, chocolate, half-caf, and nonfat milk," Cordelia ordered imperiously, taking a moment to consider her choice of beverage.

"Anything else, Your Highness-ness?" Faith asked mockingly.

"Yeah. Make sure there's extra foam on the cappuccino. Seriously, _**don't**_ forget it!"

The Slayer snorted and nodded, heading back out the door. Cordelia stared after her, admitting to herself that she was kinda tired as well as hungry and thirsty; the young woman hadn't left Xander's bedside once after she'd woken up, apart from having to use the toilet facilities, and what little food and drink she'd consumed so far had come from the nursing staff around here. { _I'm gonna have to do something about that, I suppose. Like pay them back, or something..._ }

Then Faith's words about Willow and Buffy arriving soon really registered in her mind, and Cordelia sucked in a deep breath and squared her shoulders. The redhead she knew she could handle fairly easily, but the blonde was another matter entirely, especially if the freakzoid got started on her 'I'm the Slayer!' shtick. Still, there was no doubt in the former cheerleader's mind on who would eventually emerge the winner in that particular clash of wills.

{ _Because I'm Cordelia Chase, and I. Don't. __**Lose**__. Period._ }

* * *

**Main lobby, Wolfram & Hart private hospital**

**January 25****th****, 2004**

Buffy and Willow entered through the front doors of the hospital, somewhat fatigued after their long voyage from the United Kingdom. Even though they had Slayer stamina and witchy spell-power to prevent them from being completely exhausted by the flight to L.A., they weren't exactly calm and refreshed either.

Buffy looked around and said simply, "Hospitals. I hate 'em."

"I know," Willow replied with a sigh, briefly recalling all the occasions the old Scooby Gang had visited one. "It's the smell, isn't it? The Lysol, the body odors, the food and everything else. Y'know, every time I enter a place like this, it gives me flashbacks to high school. Especially all the times we had to break into the morgue!"

"Do me a favor, Will? Let's not talk about that right now," Buffy asked painfully. "And especially not about visiting the morgue!"

"Oh – right," Willow nodded, feeling somewhat embarrassed. Until they knew exactly what the situation around here was, it would be better not to tempt fate that way. She then went up to reception and asked where Xander's room was.

It took a while for the duty nurse to find out, as Harris still wasn't officially registered as a patient here – but eventually the woman told Willow what she wanted to know, and both she and Buffy made their way to the second floor of the building and then to the coma ward.

"You ready?" the Slayer asked her best friend cautiously, as they arrived at the appropriate door.

"No," Willow sighed. "But I guess that doesn't really matter." The red-haired witch then grasped the door handle, and entered Xander's room.

Only to find, he wasn't alone...

"Hey, B! Red. Glad you could finally join us," Faith's voice immediately sounded too loud and too cheerful to Buffy and Willow's ears. "How was the flight from England?"

"Okay, I guess," Willow said, a little hesitantly. "Kinda tiring, but nowhere near as bad as what it'd have been, i-if I'd tried to teleport us both here..."

"What are you doing here, Faith?" Buffy demanded, looking part-confused and part-annoyed. "Aren't you supposed to be in Cleveland right now, guarding the Hellmouth there?"

"Haven't you heard? We've got nearly two dozen Slayers stationed in Ohio nowadays, so not exactly vital for me to personally stick around. And as for the first part, you thought I wouldn't come here after hearing what happened to Xander?" Faith asked with a slightly raised eyebrow.

Willow could instantly foresee how that question led nowhere good, and so attempted to reroute the topic of conversation. "Can we see him?"

Faith shrugged. "Don't need to ask my permission..."

Buffy and Willow hesitantly made their way to the bed, and examined the one-eyed man. Like Cordelia, they were immediately shocked over how much machinery had been hooked up to Xander's body, and how it made him look so, so...fragile...

Willow said to Faith, "We heard what happened from Angel, a-a-and we came as soon as we could. Uh, Xander left us a videotape and all, but we still don't know exactly how he found out about-"

"Me?"

The husky and somewhat familiar female voice came from the entranceway to the nearby bathroom, where Cordelia was standing after finishing relieving her bladder. She stared at Buffy and Willow stonily and added, "That _**was**_ what you were just about to say, wasn't it, Willow?"

"Cordelia! You're awake, oh, oh, thank the Goddess for that!" the Rosenberg woman began to babble. Willow rushed over and gave her a brief if uncomfortable hug, which somehow thawed the frosty atmosphere somewhat. "I, I'm so sorry I didn't do anything to personally help you while you were in the coma, but Angel assured us he was doing everything possible, he promised us, he-"

"Willow! Breathe," Cordelia cut her off firmly, but with a slight quirking of her lips that hinted at hidden amusement. { _Hmm, maybe the hair-pulling catfight won't be necessary, after all._ } "Deep breaths. This isn't high school anymore, remember?"

"Oh, yeah," Willow nodded like a bobble-head doll. "Anyway, I'm so glad you're okay..."

"I wouldn't be, if it wasn't for Xander," Cordelia said simply, gesturing to where the comatose man lay in his bed. "In fact – I'd have died if he hadn't done what he did."

"Say what?" Faith spoke up, looking astonished.

"Seriously? The brain damage was that bad?" Buffy added in her two cents, likewise looking very surprised.

Cordelia turned to look at her, and the Summers woman almost flinched at the deep, penetrating stare being sent her way. "Yeah. And lemme guess, Angel forgot to mention that part? No, don't even bother to answer. I swear, sometimes, that man – he and Xander are so alike in some things, it's _**creepy!**_ Neither of them ever want to give the other proper credit for anything good they've done...one day, I've got to look into whether they're distantly related or something!"

{ _Eww,_ } Buffy thought instinctively. But then she said, "I'm glad you're awake too, for the record."

"Thanks," Cordelia replied frostily. "So, now that that's out of the way, wanna get started?"

"Huh?" Willow said in confusion.

"C'mon, Red! Chant the chant, do your mojo, and wake our boy up! Isn't that why you're here?" Faith demanded, looking surprised.

"Uh, well..."

"What?" Cordelia suddenly lost all traces of friendliness. "You mean, that _**isn't**_ why you came here?!"

"It's not that simple," Buffy said shortly, disliking Cordelia's tone.

"Why not?" Faith asked, sensing the colder atmosphere at once.

"Uh, well, don't get me wrong, I _**do**_ want to go into Xander's mind and wake him up, kinda like I did with Buffy way back when," Willow started to babble again. "But after he consulted with Mrs. Harkness and the coven in Devon, uh, Giles phoned me about an hour ago and, um, sorta told me not to do that, e-except as a last resort type plan."

"What? WHY?" Cordelia demanded angrily.

"There's no such thing as a free lunch, apparently," Buffy shrugged. "This was Xander's choice, and if Will does wake him up that way – Giles said the Powers might take it as him welshing on the deal he made to wake _**you**_ up. So, like she said, last resort scenario."

"Damn, that blows," Faith scowled. "So, what, we just gotta wait until Xander wakes up on his own?"

"Not necessarily," Cordelia said, looking upset. Deep down, she'd sorta been expecting for Willow to simply snap her fingers and fix the situation, but then she told herself not to be an idiot. Her former classmate was hardly some all-powerful deity, after all. "Fred said she might be able to come up with something."

{ _Fred?_ } Buffy wondered, before recalling the dark-haired physicist she had briefly met months ago. "I thought she wasn't a doctor, though?"

"Hey, East Texas is the smartest woman I've ever met – no offense, Red," Faith threw a quick grin in Willow's direction, who simply nodded and didn't take any. "So if she says she might be able to do it somehow, in my book? It's just a matter of time, pretty much!"

"All right," Buffy said reflectively. She'd been about to suggest making arrangements for taking Xander back to England, not knowing that that would have been the _**worst**_ possible thing she could have said – Cordelia might have done something drastic to prevent it, as she was feeling _**very**_ protective towards her former boyfriend right now – but luckily, fate and circumstance had conspired to make her abandon that idea. "Well, in that case-"

"Sodding hell, cheerleader, where are you?" an incredibly familiar British voice said from outside in the corridor, before the door opened and Spike strode into the room. "Oy, the big poof asked me to – Buffy?"

"Spike?" Buffy gasped, feeling faint. She honestly couldn't believe what her eyes were telling her for a moment, she was that shocked right now. "Spike? You're, you're _**alive**_?!"

Faith had already heard how Spike was back from Angel, and so wasn't completely astonished like the two recent arrivals from Great Britain. "Uh, vampire, so I'm thinking not," she interjected humorously.

Buffy completely ignored her. "Wait a minute – are you the First?" She quickly strode over and poked William the Bloody in the shoulder, instantly confirming that he was corporeal. "No, obviously not..."

"Bloody hell, luv, wasn't expecting you to be here-" Spike began to say, when Buffy unexpectedly punched him _**hard**_, right in the mouth. The vampire went reeling backwards, crashing into a wall and bleeding slightly from the corner of one lip. "Owww! Bleedin' heck, pet, what was _**that**_ for?!"

"You're, you're kidding, right? Spike, we all thought you were _**dust **_at the bottom of that crater, which, which used to be Sunnydale!" Willow said incredulously. "And yet, you're here in L.A.?"

"Huh. Andrew actually kept his promise not to open his big gob after we ran into each other last week, then? Gotta admit, that's surprising – I reckoned he'd blab the big news to everyone, the second he arrived back in London," Spike shrugged.

"Why the _**hell**_ didn't you tell us that you'd survived what happened last year?!" Buffy suddenly screamed, her emotions now completely out of whack thanks to this latest shocking development.

"Thought about it, luv, I really did. But like I said to Harm few months back, it's kinda hard to top an exit like that-"

"_**Are you freaking**_ _**insane?!**_" Buffy interrupted with a loud yell, now feeling utterly livid. "I grieved for you! It took me months to get over the fact that you chose to die for me, and everyone else! Before I started dating the Immortal, I told myself that I had to move on from 'us'-"

"'Ere, hang on – the Immortal?! You're dating that no-good, ruddy pillock?!" Spike growled at once, much like his grandsire had done once Whistler had told him the news.

"Well, what exactly were you expecting? That she'd be in mourning for a year?" Faith asked in an amused tone. "If ya think about it for a minute, Fangless – B didn't even do that for Angel, way back when..."

"Shut up!" Buffy and Spike said to her in perfect unison. Then they looked at each other, and the ensouled vampire said, "Buffy-"

"I. Don't. Want. To. Hear. It," the blonde Slayer hissed angrily at him. "My God, I finally tell you that I love you, and straightaway you tell me that I don't really mean it? Then you come back from the dead, and don't even bother to pick up the phone to tell me this little factoid? Did I mean _**that**_ little to you, all along?"

"No, 'course not!" Spike tried to reassure her hurriedly.

"Uh, I'm not so sure, myself. I mean, I heard from Angel that Spike had sex with that Harmony vamp a few weeks ago, not long before their big grudge match concerning some kinda fake cup, so..." Faith shrugged, enjoying herself immensely with the choice comments and easily ignoring the vampire's pissed-off glare.

"_**What?!**_ Spike, is that true?!" Buffy screamed, turning to look at him. Somewhat tellingly, the undead guy couldn't look at her, which pretty much answered the question as far as she was concerned.

Cordelia, who had been quiet up until now – spectator sport, hmm, maybe Faith had actually had a point about all that – suddenly spoke up. "Seriously, Spike? You and Harmony? What happened, did she lose a bet or something?"

"Oi, that's enough outta you, Prom Queen! And it wasn't like that, I..." Spike trailed off, suddenly sensing that Buffy was glaring at him. "Listen, luv, it's not-"

"I'm not your 'luv', William," Buffy interrupted him, her tone now freezing cold. "In fact, I'm not your anything; not anymore. I told you – I grieved your loss, and I moved on. I'm in a serious relationship with another guy now, and it's your own damn fault if you don't like it! And when I go back to London soon – don't follow me, stay here in L.A. with Angel. Because he didn't tell me you were back either, so as far as I'm concerned? You two deserve each other!"

She then stormed out, and straightaway Faith got up to follow her – figuring that since she was more or less the Good Slayer now, it would be better to make sure that her mystical sibling didn't go out into the city and do something stupid. Like get herself killed in an impromptu brawl with the undead. The brunette thought to herself, { _Man, the things I do for redemption..._ }

Spike growled after the Chosen Two left; a loud, animalistic noise from the base of his throat. "Well, that's just bloody marvelous, innit?"

"Why are you here, Spike?" Cordelia demanded, unimpressed. "I mean, you originally came in looking for me, didn't you?"

"Wot? Oh, right, yeah," Spike turned to face her. "Captain Forehead said to say for you not to worry about what kind o' dosh this place charges; he's willing to cover the whelp's medical expenses, as thanks fer saving yer life 'n all. And I s'pose I also wanted to see Harris fer meself..."

Still pissed about Buffy, he then went up to Xander's body and sneered, "Tried to copy what I did with them Trials, did you? Shoulda known better than to try to run with the big dogs, mate, ya simply don't have what it takes-"

That was all he managed to say, before Willow (who had been silent up until now, and following the conversation as avidly as Cordelia) used her magic to telekinetically shove the vampire out the door of the hospital room. Spike subsequently slammed into the corridor wall, and fell down to the floor.

"Sorry, Spike, but you don't get to talk that way about my best friend," a black-eyed Willow told the unconscious Englishman roughly, before a simple hand gesture slammed the door shut.

TBC...


	6. Close Encounters

See Part One for disclaimer and details. Howdy, and welcome/welcome back to the story! Thanks to everyone who's been reviewing and sending feedback via email and feedback, it's definitely appreciated. And we know we say this a lot, but please, keep it coming! We need it like Xander needs his Twinkies, or Cordelia her shopping fixes...

Speaking of which, one of the reviewers privately asked, "it's been five chapters, when are you going to have Xander and Cordelia get together?", which made us realize we might have been neglecting that aspect of the story. Shame, shame on us for doing so! Anyway, hopefully we'll address that soon; but in the meantime, in order to whet your appetites, please enjoy...

* * *

**Part Six: Close Encounters**

**Wolfram & Hart building, Los Angeles**

**January 25****th****, 2004**

Angel's liaison to the Senior Partners, Eve No-Last-Name-Given, was pacing around in her office, looking worried and annoyed.

{ _Cordelia Chase wasn't supposed to ever wake up,_ } she thought to herself savagely. { _I had that straight from the Senior Partners themselves, damn it! And yet, thanks to that meddling, one-eyed __**asshole**__, she's walking and talking again. Now what do I do?_ }

Her choices were rather limited, unfortunately. Thanks to Xander's actions involving the Powers That Be, Eve knew that Angel's Seer was now beyond the reach of the Wolf, Ram and Hart; otherwise, she'd have been killed within that hospital room, long before Whistler had shown up to tell everyone his not-so-amusing story. The Senior Partners would have been subtle about it – killing the Vision Girl in such a way as to cast blame on someone or something else, in order to keep Angel distracted – but unfortunately, that never had been an option under these circumstances.

{ _That little bastard Harris, he's screwed up everything, _} Eve seethed to herself. _{ And not just for me, but maybe Lindsey as well! My boyfriend's plans are in serious jeopardy now. So the question is, how do I put things back to the way they're supposed to be?_ }

Going over the hastily-written reports and analyses of the situation, Eve quickly arrived at the conclusion that there was only one thing she could do. Wake Harris up, in order for those cursed Powers to back out on the deal he'd made with them. Hopefully, _**hopefully**_, that would restore the status quo by putting the Seer slut back in a coma where she belonged – and then the liaison figured she could kill Harris, so that he wouldn't ever interfere in any way again.

{ _Okay,_ } Eve thought to herself, feeling relieved once that decision was made. { _That's the 'what', but as for the 'how'... _}

The immortal child of the Senior Partners thought about it for a while, before doing some digging in the files. Then she cross-referenced her short-listed choice of candidates, and eventually made her decision on the mage to do her dirty work. Under normal circumstances, of course, she would have just assigned the job to Cyvus Vail, a member of the Circle of the Black Thorn; but that particular demon would almost certainly refuse to do it.

Vail was smart enough not to want to risk attracting the personal attention of the Powers That Be, damn him.

"Hello, Mr. Rayne," Eve greeted Ethan politely, after he had been smuggled into her office in order not to come to Angel's attention. Or that of any of his personal lackeys. "It's simply delightful to meet you."

"Likewise," Ethan inclined his head respectfully. The woman before him was human, at least biologically, but he could tell from her aura that there was a lot more to her than just the attractive face and equally attractive set of knockers. "To what do I owe this honour?"

Eve got up from behind her desk, and slowly walked around it to face the British wizard. "I wanted to meet you, in order to offer you a job."

"Ah, I see. Regrettably, I fear I must decline, due to personal commitments-"

"You're dying, I know," Even interrupted smoothly, as a look of astonishment appeared on Ethan's face for a moment. "That soul-scraping spell? The firm maintains an interest in all the magicks it sells to its clients; past, present and future. You have my sympathies, about how you'll soon cease to exist in every sense of the word."

Ethan didn't believe her for a moment. He just replied, "Something I'm rather anxious to avoid, you understand. So, unless there's anything directly pertaining to my predicament, I'm afraid I'm not in the market for employment by your firm."

Even raised an eyebrow. "You _**could**_ always commit suicide right now, you know. That would stop the dissolution of your soul, once it departed this plane and arrived at its final destination."

"Yes, well, I'll keep that in reserve as my, ah, ultimate contingency plan," Ethan told her honestly, rather amused by her candor. "Still – where there's life there's always hope, and all that."

"Exactly. That's why I'm offering you a deal, Mr. Rayne; wake up a certain comatose individual, and I'll give you that chance at life."

"What exactly do you mean by that?" Ethan narrowed his eyes at once, sensing the beginning of a negotiation.

"The Senior Partners can turn back time, Mr. Rayne. Wake up the individual I need, and as a reward Wolfram & Hart will send you back to when you first fragmented your soul. _**With**_ the knowledge of what'll happen if you don't get help from someone like that shaman you recently consulted with. Wo-Pang, I believe his name is?"

Ethan was somewhat impressed by the offer, as well as how thoroughly this place kept tabs on such things. Still, he knew better than to blindly accept the deal, just like that. "If your Senior Partners can turn back time that way, why only the last seven months? Why not send me back to four years ago, before I got incarcerated by those blasted Initiative people in the first place?"

Eve just stared at him coldly. "That offer is not on the table, Mr. Rayne. The reasons need not concern you, even though I'm sure you can figure them out for yourself if you try hard enough." That was unlikely, actually, as Ethan didn't know enough about Eve and Lindsey's plans for Angel and his people; but then, that didn't really matter right now. "Now, are you in or out?"

"We'll need to discuss a few details, but if your offer is genuine, then who am I to say no?"

* * *

**CEO office, Wolfram & Hart building**

**A few minutes later**

Angel winced from the loud noise as Dawn slammed the phone down on the other end of the transatlantic line, and then he got up to pour himself a drink at the mini-bar not far away. { _I honestly don't get it. How did things ever become so screwed up?_ }

It was, of course, tempting – so very tempting – to blame Xander for the entire mess, but unfortunately, Angel knew that that simply wasn't true. The boy had only done what he himself should have done, long ago – whatever was necessary to wake Cordelia up. Harris wasn't responsible for what had happened afterwards...

It was the Seer herself who had wielded the metaphorical knife that had been plunged into his unbeating heart, within that hospital room.

{ _It's yer own fault, just assumin' that everything would be hunky-dory once that deceitful little bitch woke up,_ } his inner Angelus sneered at him. { _Seriously, boy-o, have you forgotten just who and what she is? Not ta mention, was? _}

{ _Shut up,_ } Angel thought back at once. { _Cordelia was __**possessed**__ after she came back from the Higher Realms. Everything that happened after Lorne's memory spell last year, it wasn't her fault!_ }

_{ Oh? Really? 'Cause that stuck-up little snob was dumb enough to let that Skip fella do what he did while you were waitin' for her in Malibu, wasn't she? Wonder what was she thinkin' – that Heaven would come with beauty parlors and shoe shops, plus no-spending-limit credit cards?_ } Angelus gloated. { _Still, you're just emphasizing me point. Plus, everything that cradle-snatching little whore said after she came back, it was all a lie. She said she loved you? Ha! You heard her in that hospital room – and that 'I still love you as a friend' line, didn't it just make ya want to rip her lungs out?_ }

{ _No. It made me want to find another Mohra demon, infect myself with its blood and get rid of you again; this time for good,_ } Angel coldly told him, which caused Angelus to snarl in helpless fury. { _Now be quiet. Annoy me again, and I'll start visualizing about saving puppies and helping little old ladies cross the street – as well as wearing one of Xander's Hawaiian shirts!_ }

The threat actually worked, as the soul won a minor victory over the demon. But Angel didn't get to enjoy it for long, as the door to his private office was almost yanked off its hinges and Buffy stormed in, with Faith right behind her.

"Buffy? What are you doing here?" Angel asked, looking confused. Not only had Harmony failed to announce her arrival, but he'd have been willing to bet money that nothing would drag her or Willow away from Xander's bedside right now, short of an apocalypse.

"Why didn't you tell me about Spike?!" Buffy demanded hotly, her eyes blazing with anger.

{ _Oh, that._ } Angel shrugged. "Why didn't you tell Dawn about Cordelia? She was yelling at me about that over the phone just now, actually."

"Council's gonna have one _**nasty **_phone bill this month, I'm betting," Faith commented philosophically.

Both Buffy and Angel ignored her. The blonde Slayer shouted at the vampire, "That's completely different!"

"How, exactly?" Angel riposted, looking his ex-girlfriend directly in those beautiful green eyes of hers. He wasn't in the mood to pull any punches as he said, "Because if you'd cared enough about the subject, you'd have told Dawn the truth about Cordy being in that coma. Likewise, if I'd cared enough about the subject, I'd have called and told you about Spike emerging out of that amulet. It's that simple, Buffy."

"No, it's not!" the Summers woman fumed, before abruptly turning to her sister Slayer for support. "Faith, you know I'm right! Tell him!"

The brunette shrugged. "Actually, B, the way I see it – Angel and Spike have been fighting over you for ages now. So you honestly expected your ex here to help the competition that way? That's – kinda naïve..."

Angel chuckled and Buffy grew livid, but Faith wasn't done yet. She said to the vampire, "And hey; a lover versus a high school friend? Not the same ball park, not the same league, hell – not even the same freakin' sport, pal. And that's ignoring the whole 'Spike sacrificed himself with that amulet' thing as well."

If he could have, Angel would have gone red over the rebuke. { _Yeah, some sacrifice that was! Because nineteen days later, he was right back to being a pain in my ass..._ } "Dawn mentioned something about that as well, even though I don't know how she learned Spike was back. To be honest, I get the feeling she doesn't like me much right now..."

"What did ya expect, after you and everyone else lied about Cordelia?" Faith shrugged. "And with regard to Spike, yeah, I can sorta see where you're coming from. Dawn always liked him more than you, but don't forget about the Xander factor; seriously, big guy, my money says Pip's real pissed over that. So I'd start prayin' that our boy comes out of his coma five-by-five if I were you, and sooner rather than later. Or else Li'l D might come to town with a bunch of Slayers at her back, lookin' to make _**you**_ fit into an ashtray!"

Angel gulped, ignoring Buffy's startled look. { _Yeah, maybe Dawn would at that. Okay, I gotta beef up security around this place!_ }

The phone rang, and Angel picked up. "Hello? Harmony, I'm kinda busy right now, this'll have to wait-"

He paused for a few moments. "Yeah, I know there are a couple of Slayers on the premises. Yeah, I know it's their job to kill soulless vampires – what? How the hell should I know what your contract says about hazard pay, under these circumstances? I don't-"

Another pause. Then Angel began to look angry. "Complain to the union? We don't _**have**_ a union around here! Well, not after I killed...what? Complain to Spike? Harmony? HARMONY!" He slammed the phone down back on its cradle. "I don't believe this..."

"So hard to find good help nowadays?" Faith smiled at her friend.

Angel pseudo-sighed, before writing an address down on a piece of paper. "Faith, could you do me a favor? Head on over to Spike's place, and nip all this in the bud before my soon-to-be former secretary convinces him to do something stupid..."

Faith accepted the paper from her undead friend, and then left the office with a quick wink and a nod. Witnessing this, Buffy felt a brief pang of jealousy over their friendship; in some ways, it seemed that her ex-boyfriend was a lot closer now to the Slayer that had tried to kill him rather than the one that had loved him, way back when.

"So. Are we gonna talk about it?" Buffy asked Angel.

"Talk about what?"

"That Dana girl," the Slayer said, making Angel blink with the abrupt change in topic. "How I gave orders to Andrew that she be taken away from you, after she was finally tracked down. And after Andrew came back to England, that geek told me that he said how none of us trust you anymore, not even me. I mean, he _**did**_ say that, right?"

Angel's face immediately got colder. "Yeah, he did. And I gotta say, it hurt hearing that. A lot."

Buffy hastened to say, "I never told him to say that, though – I _**do **_trust you, it's just..."

"Giles doesn't trust me. Neither do a lot of other people connected with the Council," Angel said what Buffy couldn't. "I'd imagine the Immortal isn't singing my praises, either?"

Straightaway, Buffy looked exasperated. "First Xander, then Spike, and now you? Oh, my God! What is with the guys in my life being unable to accept my boyfriend?"

"Maybe it's on account of how the Immortal completely humiliated me and Spike, back in 1894? And as for Xander...c'mon, Buffy, do I _**really**_ have to dignify that with an explanation?" Angel asked challengingly. "I mean, centuries-old guy with a dark past, who's done things that would instantly make Harris hate him? At least with me and Spike, he's willing to work with us to prevent the annual apocalypse. I'm not wrong in guessing that Harris refused to grant the Immortal even that much favor, am I?"

Buffy scowled at him, turned around and immediately stalked out of the office.

* * *

**Restricted area of the coma ward, Wolfram & Hart private hospital**

**Later that night**

"Cordelia?"

"What is it, Willow?"

The witch paused, noting that the Seer was still holding Xander's hand tightly. "Um, can we talk? I'm, uh, kinda concerned."

Cordelia slowly turned her head to look at the redhead curiously. "About what? I mean, what do you mean by that?"

"Uh, well, I was just thinking. Apparently, your apartment in Silverlake? Some other people are living there now. And, uh, Angel's hotel, the Hyperion? It's pretty much empty and abandoned. So, um, I was kinda wondering if you had any place to go home to?" Willow shrugged.

Cordelia's eyes immediately became moist, and her voice hoarse. "What?"

"You, you can stay with me at my hotel for now, if you like," Willow offered hastily. "And I'm sure that Angel still has all your stuff in storage somewhere. He could probably set you up with-"

"No," Cordy interrupted at once. "I mean, yeah, I'm gonna get my stuff back – but I _**don't**_ want to owe Wolfram & Hart a damn thing. Literally. Maybe Angel's forgotten what comes with that, but I haven't. Swear to God, everything's gone to hell without me there at his side, to kick him in the ass whenever he needed it..."

"Kinda like what's happened with us, I guess, that thing with Xander not talking to Buffy anymore," Willow said reflectively.

"Yeah, that Whistler guy mentioned something about that. That Xander gave up on both Buffy _**and**_ you. Never thought I'd see the day," Cordelia shook her head. "Wanna fill me in on the details?"

Willow hesitated, but then told the other woman about why she had to remain out of touch with just about everyone, until the Council's settlement with the disaffected Slayers and the grieving families of the dead was complete. "I tried at the start to keep in touch with him, I really did – but Xander was always so busy, and I had Kennedy and everything else to deal with, and I just..."

"I get it," Cordelia said after Willow trailed off. "Seriously, I do. Heck, it wasn't that long ago I screwed up that way with my ex-boyfriend, Groo. Well, kinda sorta, anyway," the brunette added self-consciously. "Even though I know it's been ages since he left me, up here?" Cordy pointed at her head, before pointing at her heart. "Down here, it feels like it was only a few weeks ago, instead of nearly two years!"

"Right. And speaking of former boyfriends..." Willow hesitated, before she blurted out, "How do you feel now about Xander?"

"Huh?"

"Well, during the flight from London, I started discussing what had happened with Buffy – and I figured that deep down he still loves you, even though it's been nearly five years. I mean, Xander sacrificing himself that way for someone he hasn't seen or even talked to for that long? Pretty much a no-brainer. So, uh, I was kinda wondering how you felt about him nowadays? Whether or not there are still feelings involved, on your part?"

Cordelia froze. She was still totally focused on the first sentence as she said, "Are you actually saying that, that Xander _**loved**_ me back then? He never, _**ever**_ told me that!"

"I know. He never told me that, either. But, y'know, best friend since kindergarten; he sorta didn't have to. I could tell how actions spoke louder than words – like, he didn't fight for _**me**_ after I chose Oz instead of him, all he could think about was _**you! **_How he'd lost you. Plus, he musta left a hundred messages on your answering machine back then, and Xander was so incredibly jealous of Wesley after that guy showed up-"

"Don't go there," Cordelia cut her off firmly. She still had somewhat ambivalent feelings where that Englishman was concerned, due to the role he'd played in Connor's kidnapping, but even if that hadn't been an issue she didn't want to think about that part of her past right now.

Because her senior year of high school? _**Not **_a time that held many happy memories for her. Especially getting impaled by that damn rebar. The scars on her back and abdomen had been a constant reminder of a betrayal so _**heinous**_ that, at the time, the young woman had found it impossible to forgive her boyfriend for his actions.

"And to answer your question, it's too soon for me to say whether there are still...feelings, involved. I mean, don't get me wrong, I owe Xander my life – and I'm so grateful to him for saving me, I'd give him just about anything I have in order to express my gratitude properly! But whether there are still feelings there, never mind getting back together with him? That's – well, that's something I'm gonna have to _**seriously **_think about!" Cordy exclaimed.

Willow shrugged, deciding to change the topic of conversation. "I guess. Still, do you wanna maybe take a break and stretch your legs a bit? I mean, you've been watching over Xander for, what, the past thirty-six hours? I can stay with him, if you like – you look kinda tired, a-and could do with some rest."

Cordelia's hand automatically drifted to her hair, as translated into the feminine, the word 'tired' means 'disheveled.' She opened her mouth to deliver a stinging retort, but realized just in time that Willow honestly hadn't meant to say anything offensive. "All right, fine. I guess a break wouldn't hurt – but, can I borrow your cell phone? If anything happens, you can call me like straightaway."

"Sure, no problem." Willow handed it over. She then pointed at the landline phone which had been installed in the corner, not long after Cordelia had woken up. "I'll call you from there, I promise."

"And thanks for the offer to stay at your hotel room, by the way. God only knows what the state of my bank account is," Cordy exhaled wearily. Then she headed for the hospital room door.

"You're welcome," Willow said, as the Seer nodded and left. Once she was alone with her comatose friend, the witch said softly, "Oh, Xander. I'm so sorry. For everything..."

* * *

**Outside Xander's hospital room**

**A few moments earlier**

Ethan made his way down the corridor, considering various scenarios relating to his current task. He was feeling dubious, but determined to succeed. Dubious because Rayne was actually familiar with the target, and he didn't like coincidences; but determined to succeed because, in the end, it was his own existence at stake if Wolfram & Hart didn't follow through on their part of the deal.

As he walked, the Englishman noticed a rather good-looking bird coming the other way. Then Ethan tensed up, getting the feeling that he knew her from somewhere...

{ _Oh, hell, it's one of Ripper's brats!_ } Rayne thought to himself, suddenly recognizing Cordelia. Ethan then silently cursed at the big-breasted totty who'd managed to knee him directly in the balls, while he was trying to escape from Eyghon. { _That's all I bloody need – and if she's here, the odds are the rest of them will be, too..._ }

Ethan suddenly recalled Willow Rosenberg, who Eve had warned him would most likely be present in the target's hospital room; someone who needed to be neutralized, in order not to interfere with his mission. { _To think, that little girl grew up to be one of the most powerful magic users in the world. Why am I not surprised...and come to think of it, why hasn't she woken the man up herself?_ }

Then Rayne pulled himself together, as the ex-cheerleader came closer. { _No time for wool-gathering, old boy. Focus – neutral disinterested expression, nothing to see here..._ }

Ethan passed her by in the corridor, without so much as a look. Cordelia frowned as she kept walking, getting the oddest feeling that she knew the older guy from somewhere...before dismissing it from consideration. Well, the Seer _**did**_ have a great deal on her mind right now, and Cordy had only ever met Ethan once, over six years ago. A lot had happened since that night in the old high school library, and hey; fresh out of a coma, too.

So Cordelia continued to walk towards to the hospital cafeteria, thinking to herself, { _My apartment's been rented out to someone else. Oh, Dennis, I'm so sorry! You must hate me for leaving that night and never coming back, ditching you without even a token goodbye. Or – no, even if I did go back there after I was possessed by that Jasmine thing, it still doesn't count. I'm gonna have to call home and leave him a message – hopefully, the number won't have changed. And then-_ }

Cordelia never had a chance to complete that thought, as a vision suddenly appeared in her mind. It was something of a special occasion, actually; as for the first time, the mystical warning came _**not**_ from that late and unlamented rogue who had almost killed the Vision Girl, but from the true Powers That Be. { _What the..._ }

There was no pain; Skip had made sure that would never again be an issue as part of Jasmine's plan, but the intensity of the vision was such that Cordy's eyes went completely white, as she foresaw what would happen not long from now.

Namely, the mysterious stranger she'd passed by less than a minute ago putting Willow into some sort of mystical trance, and then waking Xander up somehow – before she herself collapsed onto the floor, screaming before falling to the ground unconscious.

No, comatose.

{ _Screw that!_ } the emotional and vindictive part of her brain snarled viciously, before Cordelia turned around and raced back to the coma ward as fast as she could go.

* * *

**Inside Xander's hospital room**

**The same time**

Ethan hmm'ed to himself, as his surprise attack against Willow worked. He could feel the girl's power, which vastly exceeded his own, and so was grateful that it hadn't come to a magical duel between them; as he almost certainly would have lost. { _Yes, who was it that once said cheaters never prosper? Whoever it was, they obviously lived in some sort of ivory tower..._ }

"Tara," Ethan heard Willow say dreamily, before he ignored whatever else the carrot-top started babbling on about. Rayne quickly walked up to Xander and inspected the one-eyed man carefully, before detaching some of the wires and machinery from around his head. Summoning every bit of his magical strength, the British wizard put his fingertips on the sleeper's forehead.

{ _Wake up, boy,_ } Ethan commanded, trying to force himself into the young man's mind. { _I know you can hear me. The time has come for you to wake up. So WAKE UP, damn it!_ }

There was resistance, feeble but nonetheless detectable, as if somewhere in the depths of his limbic system, Xander recognized that this wasn't right – and Ethan's intrusion into his head was unwelcome enemy action. Still, said resistance was so weak that Rayne could have easily overcome it – if he'd had the chance.

Cordelia unexpectedly bursting into the room, however, denied Ethan that chance.

"_**Get away from him!**_" the Seer screamed at the top of her lungs, and the British sorcerer was distracted by the brunette blur that tackled him to the floor – and which had started glowing with an incredibly bright white luminescence.

Ethan suddenly vanished, before the entire room was engulfed by a blinding flare of that actinic, incandescent light; and when it finally faded, Willow started rubbing her eyes in confusion.

Not far away, Cordelia was out cold on the floor.

* * *

**Inside Xander's mind**

**A moment later**

Slowly at first, Cordelia became aware of a white light that she could easily perceive, even though her eyes were firmly shut. Not understanding why that should be so, she opened her eyes and looked around.

Unfortunately, she had no idea where she was.

The white light vanished, and a sense of anxiety began to intrude into her consciousness. Feeling troubled, Cordelia quickly noticed two things; both disturbing, in their own way.

The first was that she wasn't breathing and that her heart wasn't beating, either. The second was that there was no illumination anywhere, now; just total blackness, all around her. She called out, "Hello? Anyone there?"

"You're not supposed to be here," a vaguely familiar female voice said, as candlelight suddenly appeared all around her and Cordelia could see again.

"Dawn? DAWN! What are you doing here? And where the heck are we, anyway?" Cordelia demanded, looking around at the featureless black tunnel before focusing back on her companion.

The young woman shook her head. "I'm not Dawn, Cordy. This is just an image so that you'll have something trustworthy to initially relate to, in order to calm down. And as for the second part, honey, take a wild guess."

{ _Honey? Wait a minute, don't tell me..._ } "Xander? Is that _**you?!**_" Cordelia shouted, her sharp mind working quickly.

"Not exactly," 'Dawn' said, before her image shimmered for a moment and then Xander stood in front of her. Or at least, a younger Xander with two eyes; someone who was dressed in green military fatigues and holding an M-16. "I'm Xander's subconscious, actually. That part of him which figured out that something was wrong where you were concerned, during a dream about the past."

"Huh? Dream about the past?"

Abruptly, Soldier Xander morphed into Anya Jenkins, wearing her white wedding dress. "That's right. My wedding day, actually. And as best I can figure it, you've entered into my mind, somehow. Wanna clue me in on how you managed to pull that one off, sweetheart?"

"Stop calling me stuff like that! Or at least, go back to looking like yourself when you say it, okay?" Cordelia huffed. "You're almost starting to freak me out, here!"

"Sorry." 'Anya' morphed back into Soldier Xander, except now he was wearing a black BDU shirt and pants, and wielding a CAR-15 submachine gun. "Is this any better?"

"Yeah, lots." Cordelia took a moment to privately admire the view, before focusing back on the important stuff. "So, I'm inside your mind? Okay, I wasn't exactly planning on that, but now that I'm here – well, how the hell do I wake you up, already?"

"You can't. Not without ending up back in a coma – and then dying, afterwards," Soldier Xander said calmly. "The Powers were real clear about that. So do us both a favor, and don't even try. Don't let anyone try."

"But-"

"No buts, Cor," Soldier Xander interrupted her, before turning and walking away. "The PTBs don't care about human perceptions of right and wrong, or fair versus unfair. Are you telling me that you haven't learned that the hard way, by now?"

"Hey! Where are you going? Damn it, Harris, wait for me!" Cordelia shouted, as she hurried after him. The young woman then glared at Xander's subconscious, as soon as she caught up with him. "Geez! I always knew that deep down you were a complete jerk, but it woulda been nice for you to prove me wrong!"

"Jerk I may be, but I never forgot you," Soldier Xander said, reaching out for and taking one of her hands in his. Cordy was so surprised, she let him do it without question or comment. He went on, "Despite not having seen or talked to you for nearly five years, I could never fail to remember you. Because no one could ever infuriate and excite me the way you did, not even Anya."

"Well, duh!" Cordelia said, trying to conceal the flush of excitement and self-satisfaction that comment had elicited. She quickly forgot about the whole 'jerk' thing as she added, "I'm Cordelia Chase, after all!"

"The one and only," Soldier Xander nodded.

"And don't you forget it. Hey, where are we going?" Cordelia demanded.

"I'm not entirely sure," Xander's subconscious admitted. "I'm mostly going on what I remember Willow saying she did when she went into Buffy's mind, during that whole Glory mess. Too bad you weren't there for that, by the way. We could have used your help on that one."

Cordelia was somewhat startled to hear that. "Really? You mean that?"

"I'm not the conscious waking mind. I'm Xander's subconscious, sweetheart – so if I say it, I mean it," Soldier Xander said.

Cordelia didn't know how to reply to that, as they continued to walk through the ex-carpenter's mindscape. Because that piece of information ran counter to just about everything she knew about her former boyfriend. { _Wow. Xander and I actually have something in common, besides the obvious? I might just faint..._ }

The long, black corridor, or whatever it was, abruptly became a chamber containing a number of cages. Cordy looked around in surprise and said, "What the-?"

"Stick close to me," Xander's subconscious told her at once. "We need to pass through here to get to where we're going – I think. Just don't get too close to the...uh, occupants. Not sure what'll happen if one of them grabs hold of you, Cordy, but I suspect it won't be anything good."

"Right," Cordelia said nervously, as they ventured further into the strange chamber.

"Lemme save you some time, and start answering your questions on who's who," Soldier Xander said, as they passed by the first cage. "That's the remnants of the swim team Fish Monster, from roughly the end of junior year."

Cordelia shivered and pressed herself tighter against Soldier Xander, at the sight of the dark-grey aquatic creature that stared at her hungrily – before it transformed into a Xander clone with gills instead of a nose, and inhuman, shark-like teeth. Cordy looked at Fish Monster Xander and said, "Gross!"

"If you say so. But his legacy has proven useful. Superior breath control during sex, for example," Xander's subconscious said with a perfectly straight face, which almost made Cordy stumble in shock.

She had to force herself to remember that this wasn't the 'real' Xander Harris; this was what lurked beneath the class clown exterior, which had none of the issues or inhibitions her former boyfriend had often exhibited. { _Kinda makes me wish he could have let this aspect of himself out to play back then, I hafta admit..._ }

"And this, this is the leftovers of the Hyena spirit possession," Soldier Xander pointed his gun to the next cage, where a large brown dog-like creature lay sleeping.

Cordelia looked at the cage in confusion and interest. Unlike the others, it had a ditch moat around it, and a sign on the railing: Brown Cave-Hyena (_Pachycrocuta brevirostris_). The Seer then started as suddenly, without any warning, the prehistoric giant hyena awoke and changed into a teenage-looking Xander Harris – who jumped up, and forcibly started reaching through the bars of its cage as far as it could.

"MINE!" Hyena Xander roared loudly, its glowing green eyes fixed onto Cordelia's hazel ones as she came to a halt. "Breed! Now! MATE!"

Mesmerized by the inexplicable attraction she felt towards Hyena Xander, Cordelia might have gotten to within arm's reach – if Soldier Xander hadn't grabbed her and hustled her away. { _Whoa! Okay, that was weird... _}

"Didn't I tell you to stick close to me?" the Harris subconscious demanded, derailing her thoughts.

"Yeah, sorry, it's just..." Cordelia trailed off, wondering what the hell had come over her.

"I know. Human instinct, and animal passion. Not all that surprising, since that part of Xander Harris still considers you a good choice of mate," Soldier Xander nodded, calming down. He ignored Cordelia's freaked expression as he added, "It's lucky you weren't around while the conscious mind was possessed by that greater totemic entity during sophomore year, actually. Otherwise, well – there's a good chance that the Hyena would have ignored Buffy and gone after you, instead."

"Really?" Cordelia asked, her mind still reeling in astonishment. "But, but back then, we weren't together. Not even close!"

"Physical desire. It's been there since the day you started growing tits, even if it had serious competition related to Slay-gal, and given a choice? Odds are the Hyena would have gone with the older and more established feelings. Only problem is, he wouldn't have stopped until you were pregnant with his spawn – and that's not exactly a good thing at sixteen years old, not anymore," Xander's subconscious said contemplatively. "Although it would have made you useless to Jasmine, if nothing else."

"Huh? I mean, seriously?" Cordelia said in amazement.

"Think about it. Your parents were non-practicing Catholics, but they still raised you to think that abortion is wrong. So you and your mom probably would've left town after the pregnancy test came back positive, and you'd have had the baby somewhere far away, like...I dunno, Switzerland. If I know you, you wouldn't have given the kid up for adoption, either; and with a two-year-old son or daughter to look after, your situation after high school would have been totally incompatible with the plan which Rotting Corpse Maggot-Face Lady and her demon lackey had in mind," Harris explained. "Not without drawing unwelcome attention to themselves, anyway."

Cordelia was utterly stunned. "I don't know what to-"

"Of course, in that scenario I'd have been either rotting in prison for rape, or else shot dead by your father," Soldier Xander interrupted, ignoring the expression on Cordelia's face. "So, you'll understand that I'm _**glad**_ it didn't actually work out that way. Even though sex with you would no doubt have been worth it."

"Oh, you _**loser**_ asshole!" Cordy flung out the insult without even thinking about it, while giving him a hard whack on the arm. She didn't appreciate tactless and blunt when it was aimed at her, any more than the next girl. { _Infuriating, exasperating __**male**__..._ }

"Sorry, but that's the superego and the id. Something which works solely according to the pleasure principle," Soldier Xander said patiently. "I'm the subconscious, my territory is instinct and hunches. Along with the inner geek, of course." His clothing suddenly blurred and altered, and Cordelia found herself looking at the classic Han Solo movie outfit: navy blue pants with Corellian Bloodstripes tucked into black boots, a white Henley top and a navy vest. He even had a laser gun strapped to one leg.

Cordelia suddenly glanced down, and squawked at seeing herself wearing the Princess Leia slave girl outfit. "Hey, knock it off – you, you _**perv**_! I mean, change it back – right now!"

"Fine. Even though, in all seriousness – baby, that outfit is something that'd make every straight guy drool helplessly over you."

"True, but flattery will get you nowhere, buster!" Cordy snarked, even if she secretly appreciated the ego boost his words had created; and she also made a mental note to model the outfit for him at some point in the future. Well, either that or her Pylean princess costume. "Now presto change-o, and snap to it!"

Their clothing changed back to what they'd been wearing a few seconds ago, before they started walking again. Soldier Xander pointed and said, "And getting back on topic, over there is Rennfield Bug-eating Xander."

Cordelia watched in amazement, as they passed by the next cage with an older-looking Xander trapped inside. The words "DRACULA'S THRALL" visibly tattooed upon his forehead, Rennfield Bug-eating Xander stared at them, before he started cackling madly. "New mistress in the house! Release me, and I'll be your faithful servant, my Queen!"

"As if! I can smell your breath from here, eww!" Cordelia almost gagged as she and Soldier Xander continued on. "Why do you keep him around?" she demanded of the Harris subconscious.

"He helps in being able to eat things which might otherwise make us puke," he replied straightforwardly. "Handy survival trait."

"If you say so." Cordelia then said, "I still don't-"

"Hey, Soldier Boy! Bring the blood bag over here, will you? I'm starving!" a voice that sounded almost exactly like Xander's, but not quite, suddenly interrupted her.

Soldier Xander ignored that and said to Cordelia, "Stay close, sweetheart. Last one."

The Seer nodded, and then gasped in horror. Not far away, trapped in the specially reinforced cage, was a Vampire Xander. "What, how-?"

"Remember Anya? And how she created a world where Willow and I were vampires, and we killed you? The waking brain wanted to know details, despite my screaming warnings about that, so Ahn did some sort of memory-sharing ritual thing to satisfy his curiosity. Apart from leaving her at the altar, it was the worst mistake he ever made," Soldier Xander said emotionlessly.

"Oh, now, let's not be so quick to judge, G.I. Joke! Personally, I think letting Cordelia here get away and allowing his original destiny to be ripped apart by Jasmine and Skip, all because he couldn't control his hormones – _**that **_has to be the worst mistake Xander Harris ever made," Vampire Xander said with a big smile on his demonic face, before leering at Cordelia. "Worst one _**I**_ ever made was not turning you into a vampire when I had the chance, back in my world!"

"You're sick," Cordelia said to him in revulsion. "And me as a vampire? Yuck, as if!"

"Don't knock it 'til you've tried it, babe," Vampire Xander continued to leer and wink at her. "I mean, having an undead Queen C at my side, with you eternally young and beautiful like this? Don't know what was wrong with me, that night..."

"Let's go," Soldier Xander grabbed Cordelia's arm again and hustled her along, ignoring the jeering captive vampire. "And before you ask, I _**would**_ have exorcised him at once if I could have, but I couldn't. Besides – he's become part of Xander Harris now, just as much as the other aspects you've encountered in here."

"And that's supposed to be a good thing?"

Xander's subconscious said slowly, "The killer instinct is occasionally worthwhile. And you of all people should know that, Cordy."

"Uh – no, wait, stop!" Cordelia abruptly dug in her heels and brought them both to a halt. "We need to talk, mister! So just – stop. Stop for a second, okay?"

Soldier Xander nodded. "Okay. And what do we need to talk about?"

Cordy hesitated. "Well, for starters, how about the fact that you put yourself into a coma for me? And sure, there was a time I'd have just rolled my eyes and called you 'deficient' for it, but – damn it, Xander. What were you thinking when you did that? What were you _**feeling**_ when you did that?"

Soldier Xander shook his head. "It seemed like the right thing to do at the time. And I already told you, sweetheart, I'm the manifestation of your ex-boyfriend's subconscious. I don't do feelings. Sorry, but it's not part of the job description."

The Seer had to force herself not to grind her teeth together in frustration. "Fine. Then what are your, uh, instincts and hunches, what are they saying about what the real Xander feels for me?"

Soldier Xander was quiet for a few moments. "First off, I _**am **_the real Xander, or at least part of him, and I don't appreciate you suggesting otherwise. Secondly, there are still strong feelings there for you, as far as the conscious mind is concerned."

"There are? Really?" Cordelia beamed happily. "Strong feelings?"

"Of course. Feelings for you _**and **_Anya, but especially you. Because you were there first. Honey, you helped make Xander Harris the man he is today," Soldier Xander nodded.

"I did? Well, of course I did! But, uh, hold on – I, I don't understand something. I mean, if that's the case, then what did the Vamp Xander mean just now when he said that your original destiny had been, uh, ripped apart?" Cordelia asked, suddenly looking confused.

Soldier Xander shook his head. "You don't want to know. Trust me on that."

"Hey, I asked! That means I _**want**_ to know!" Cordelia fired back hotly. "So, spill, mister!"

Then she heard it; a crackling, sizzling sound coming from behind her. Spinning around, Cordelia saw a large blue-white ball of energy that was covered with sparking electricity. It was slightly taller than her, and she could see vague impressions of people forming, dissolving and reforming again within its depths. "What the hell is that?"

"The memories," Xander's subconscious told her tersely. "Step inside and see it for yourself, if you really want to find out what sort of life Xander Harris was originally supposed to have."

Soldier Xander then morphed back into 'Anya'. "But don't blame me if you don't like what you learn."

The image of Anya turned into 'Dawn'. "And don't blame me if you experience some other memories, either. Because this sort of thing? Not really what you might call an exact science, honey." The female avatar for the Harris subconscious then vanished completely, leaving Cordelia alone in his mindscape.

"You really are such a complete and utter _**doofus**_, Alexander LaVelle Harris!" Cordelia exploded. Before she inhaled deeply and prepared herself as best she could, and walked into the blue-white ball of energy.

Later, she would never be able to accurately describe the alien male emotions that immediately blasted through her in a primal, almost erotic sort of way. But then, it was as if she was within the African witch doctor's mud hut, and experiencing what Xander had learned in Zanzibar that night. The life that her high school boyfriend would have had together with her, had he never engaged in that illicit affair with Willow –

His job in Los Angeles, mostly just carrying stuff for other people and hammering nails, but still working in show business; even before she did. Becoming her manager, once they'd moved to the East Coast. Becoming her husband. Becoming the father of her children. Their lives together over the next seven decades –

The anguish and sense of loss that lanced through her soul were impossible for Cordelia Chase to accurately describe, once the full impact of _**that **_registered –

But then, just as Xander's subconscious had warned her might happen, Cordelia accidentally experienced another set of memories – the trials her ex had undergone in order to petition the Powers to save her life. Like Darla had done with Angel all those years ago, the Seer experienced all the pain Harris had gone through for her –

She screamed, for quite a long time.

Suddenly, everything went _**white**_.

TBC...


	7. Battlegrounds

See Part One for disclaimer and details. Welcome, one and all, to the latest chapter of the fanfic! Like always, we want to express our gratitude to everyone who's been reading the story and who have sent us reviews and feedback and ideas, it's much appreciated. Also, we thought we ought to mention up-front that this chapter has more of the conflict and argument stuff from earlier in the fic, it's necessary for some of the plot developments we have in mind for the future. So having said that, we give you...

* * *

**Part Seven: Battlegrounds**

**Restricted area of the coma ward, Wolfram & Hart private hospital**

**January 25****th****, 2004**

Wesley Wyndam-Pryce wasn't in the best of moods, as he headed for Xander's hospital room that evening.

He had spent most of yesterday and today making arrangements to depart from Wolfram & Hart, in particular clearing out his office and examining the contract he'd signed; to make sure there were no loopholes that the evil law firm could exploit to reel him back in, after he'd left. { _Well, thank God I hadn't signed up for that perpetual service thing yet, in exchange for all the knowledge available to the Senior Partners. __**That**__ would have been a bloody unmitigated disaster!_ }

Another disaster that had thankfully been avoided was meeting up with Angel again, because Wes honestly wasn't sure whether or not he'd have tried to stake that particular vampire on sight. He didn't care so much about Fred, Gunn and Lorne – most of the bad feelings there had more or less been settled – but Angel was another matter entirely.

As was Cordelia –

Wes had realized not long ago that he needed to have a private talk with the Seer. Because there was something he wanted to ask her – why exactly she'd never come to visit him while he'd been in that medical centre with a slashed-open throat, not even once. Oh, granted, he'd asked Cordelia that after she'd returned from the Higher Realms; but she'd been possessed by then, and so the woman's answer couldn't be trusted now. And somewhat to his surprise, Wesley now found himself wanting to know the real reason why.

Because the Cordelia he'd known since her senior year of high school would have stormed into his hospital room back then, cursing him six ways from Sunday for not confiding in her about the threat to Connor. Supposed threat, anyway. She'd have demanded to know what the hell he'd been thinking, and why he hadn't pick up the phone and called her and Groo immediately. Instead, there had been nothing...

No personal visits. No phone calls. Not even a bloody text message! All of which simply wasn't like the Cordelia Chase he knew.

At that moment, though, Wesley was distracted from his thoughts as an _**intense**_ white light streamed out through the cracks of the door to Xander's hospital room. Concerned, the former Watcher quickly ran all the way down the corridor to his destination, but just as he arrived the light vanished. Wesley quickly yanked open the door –

Only to find Willow blinking in confusion, and Cordelia supine and unconscious on the floor. { _What the..._ }

"Miss Rosenberg? Willow? Are you all right?" Wes demanded, as the witch turned to stare at him in confusion. "What happened in here?"

"I, I don't...wait, now I remember! That guy..."

"What guy?"

"Ethan. Ethan Rayne! He used a spell on me," Willow abruptly snarled, finally figuring out what had happened. She'd been hit by the British wizard's 'clementia nigrum' spell. Something which, loosely translated from the Latin, meant 'black mercy'; magic which mesmerized the victim into seeing only their true heart's desire, and nothing else which was happening around them.

Willow didn't have time to think about what this really meant with regards to her girlfriend Kennedy, when Wesley asked in concern, "Who's Ethan Rayne? And what sort of spell did he use on you?"

"Uh, he's – he _**was**_ an old friend of Giles. He's a Chaos mage, and they knew each other way back when. And it was, uh, just a temporary mind-control spell," Willow said, shaking her head a little as if to clear out the cobwebs.

"Mind-control? You mean, like the spell Angel used to make everyone forget about Connor?" Wesley wanted to know.

"Who?" Willow asked in confusion.

"Ah, of course, you've forgotten about him as well. Very well, then. Listen to me very carefully, Willow," Wesley told her slowly. "You're currently under another spell. Your memories have been altered, without your knowledge or consent, as part of Angel's deal with the Senior Partners of Wolfram & Hart. Check it out for yourself; there are a number of spells you can use to assess whether or not your brain has been tampered with. And I'd urge you to do so with all possible haste, in order to be the master of your own mind again."

Willow openly gaped at him, before quickly incanting such a spell and going as still as a statue. She then began to trace, one at a time, the lines of memory. Searching, probing, coursing backward and forward along the deeply-buried mental tracks – until at last, she found the scars and breaks resulting from the walled-up area which Cyvus Vail's magicks had created within her right temporal lobe.

Willow didn't hesitate. She reached out a hand that wasn't a hand, but a sense of will and intent and she caught hold of the bricked-up area of her mind, and she _**pulled**_ with all her mental strength –

Within her brain, there was a miniature lightning storm as Vail's handiwork was torn apart like rice paper, and then Willow _**remembered**_.

Very much like two years ago, during that nasty little affair concerning Lethe's Bramble, the memories of the past were released within the witch's mind. Unlike what had happened with Fred and Wesley, though, there wasn't all that much which had been concealed; but still, what Angel had done suddenly infuriated the red-haired woman.

"Willow? Willow, are you all right?" Wesley asked in concern, as her eyes went black for a moment. "Do you, ah, remember now?"

"Yeah. That's why I need to have a little 'chat' with a certain vampire," Willow growled angrily, before she turned around and marched out of the room.

Wesley watched her go, feeling a sudden chill run up his spine. He quickly recalled that old saying about how, if you're unfortunate enough to be captured by the enemy, never _**ever **_let them hand you over to the women; and reluctant as he was to admit it to himself, a quick flash of pity for Angel passed through the ex-Watcher's mind.

God only knew what that pissed-off witch was going to do to him soon...

{ _Well, it's none of my business anymore, whatever happens, _} Wesley shrugged to himself. { _Now, getting back to why I came here..._ }

"Cordelia? Cordelia!" the British man said in concern, lifting her head up off the floor. He patted her face gently, hoping that the Seer had not returned to a comatose state. "Wake up, please!"

"Uh..." Cordy groaned, her eyes fluttering open; much to Wesley's relief. "What..."

"Cordelia, are you all right? Do you need me to get a doc-" Wesley said, before he was interrupted by the Vision Girl throwing herself into his arms and starting to cry her eyes out; the moment she remembered what had happened inside Xander's mind.

Wyndam-Pryce was understandably shocked, because Cordelia almost never cried. In all the years he'd known her, there had only been one or two occasions when she'd done so in his presence. And yet now, she was sobbing and wailing like a schoolgirl who'd just been rejected by an unrequited teenage crush.

Baffled, Wesley held her in his arms and asked Cordelia what was wrong; but he only managed to make out "Xander" and "our children" in between all the sniffling and weeping. So he did what just about any red-blooded Englishman would do in this situation; he held her tightly and murmured "There, there" on occasion, and hoped like hell that the women of the tribe would show up soon – in order to take the responsibility for Cordelia's welfare off his hands.

Not far away, the comatose body of Xander Harris lay as still as the dead, while Wesley offered the Seer what comfort he could.

* * *

**Inside Xander's mind**

**A moment later**

Curiously, Xander could no longer remember how Cordelia had briefly inhabited the interior of his head. That flash of white light as the Seer had exited his mind had totally scrambled the mental landscape for a moment, and so he couldn't recall that conversation with the brunette beauty any longer.

Be that as it may, though, Xander's – not exactly consciousness, not exactly collective unconscious, but something similar to both yet neither – now found itself in a black room, and in front of him, there was a table and two chairs.

"Sit."

He turned around, to see Shaman Bond standing there. "Huh," Harris mused, definitely not expecting that. "Well, this is weird..."

'Shaman' walked around him, and silently looked him up and down. Xander looked back at the Englishman, and then tried to determine what his companion was looking at. "Okay, buddy, what's going on?"

'Shaman' looked up at Xander, before walking around to the other side of the table. "Siddown, mate."

Harris shrugged and the two of them both sat down on opposite sides of the table. 'Shaman' spoke first, "Who are you?"

Xander looked quizzically at the man. "Xander Harris."

The British guy shook his head. "No, who are you?"

"Alexander Harris?"

'Shaman' shook his head again. "No, really, who are you?"

Xander sighed. "Fine, Alexander LaVelle Harris. And you know how much I hate saying that, Mr. Bond, so I'm totally going to get you back for it one day!"

The burly Englishman smirked again, before he changed into someone else. The new arrival said, "Perhaps you should reconsider, sir."

Xander raised his eyebrows. "Jeeves?"

"Not really, sir," the so-called butler said, as he poured himself a glass of water. "Think of me as a representation of sorts within your mind." 'Jeeves' then filled the other glass, and offered it to him. "Drink, sir?"

"No thanks," Xander shook his head. "I'm not thirsty."

'Jeeves' raised his eyebrows. "You will be soon enough, I believe. Although it's not real water, and we're not really here, sir – it will help you to talk, after a while."

"Again, huh?"

'Jeeves' smiled again. "There's much we need to discuss, sir. Including Chaos."

"Chaos?" Xander echoed. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"Who do you know who has an affinity for Chaos, sir?"

Xander blinked. "Well, other than myself, maybe...that guy from Halloween, six years ago. What's-his-name, uh, Ethan Rayne?"

"Very good, sir."

Xander waited for more, but 'Jeeves' apparently had nothing else to say. So eventually Harris said, "Well?"

"Well, what, sir?"

"Why'd you mention his name?"

"I didn't, sir. You did," 'Jeeves' replied politely.

"Well, this is just great. You're being Cryptic Guy, and I'm being clueless," Xander complained. "Makes me feel like I'm back in high school..."

The 'butler' drank from his glass of water before saying, "It's more than likely that a certain situation is coming, sir, and Chaos will become involved."

"Still not following you," Xander frowned. "I mean, even if that's true, what's it got to do with me?"

"You have a vital role to play in said situation, sir," 'Jeeves' said solemnly.

Xander didn't believe that, but decided to play devil's advocate anyway. "Meaning?"

"There's always a way, sir. There are always options. The temptation will be there to simply give up. And I suspect there will come a point, when that will seem to you like the only choice left."

Frowning, Xander asked, "So, how will me not giving up do anything to change that?"

'Jeeves' replied, "Like I said, sir, it's all about Chaos. You're a wild card, a chaos-bringer. That's how you managed to get around that inevitable Pergamum Codex prophecy; how you brought Ms. Summers back to life, all those years ago. Something which, quite frankly, changed the plans that both sides had in store, in a major way."

Xander frowned. "Really?"

"Indeed, sir. By changing one small, specific thing, all the other specifics can change. I'm here to point you in the right direction, and make sure that you retain the appropriate feelings and hunches, for after you wake up. Subtlety is key, here."

Xander frowned over the way 'Jeeves' had stressed the word 'key'. "Key...you mean Dawn?"

"The Key unlocks the barrier between dimensions, sir. And time is a dimension; the space-time continuum is four-dimensional," the butler said, taking another quick sip of water.

"Yeah, I knew that. Not sure whether I remember it from watching _Doctor Who_ or not, but I still knew that," Xander nodded, as he drained his glass of water. "But, so what?"

'Jeeves' sighed in disappointment, before transforming into the image of Dawn. She said, "Ethan Rayne. The Key. Time. That's all the hints you get! You gotta put it together for yourself, Xander; I can't give you all the answers up-front!"

'Dawn' got up, and gave Xander one final piece of advice. "Don't forget about this. The consequences will probably be catastrophic if you do!"

* * *

**Spike's basement apartment, Los Angeles**

**A while earlier**

William the Bloody had gone through a lot of up's and down's in his time; both as a human, and as a vampire. So over the years, he had developed methods for dealing with his problems.

Some men turned to drink, others to women, others to song – but since he had tried all three for himself and gotten less than stellar results in the past, Spike had decided to go with something else to lift his spirits tonight. Something...novel.

Namely, playing Crash Bandicoot.

"You made the biggest mistake of your life, and I'm gonna make you pay. Oh, yeah," Spike said determinedly, punching the video game control buttons. "Feel my wrath, gorilla throwing barrels!" But then the game made a losing sound and he said forlornly, "Bloody hell!"

Spike pseudo-sighed, continuing to pressing the buttons on the controller as he said, "Really should knock on a bloke's door...especially one that's got no qualms about killing trespassers, right now."

Spike's visitor, a dark-haired young man whose entire body was covered with runic tattoos that were currently hidden underneath his clothes, walked into the apartment anyway. "Come on. Is that any way to talk to your benefactor? Been a little concerned about you. You haven't been out in the field lately, from what I hear."

"I've been out plenty, Doyle. Wasn't that long ago you sent me after that deranged Slayer, and she hacked my bloody hands off!" Spike retorted, still focusing on his video game.

"Yeah, but apparently your buddies at Wolfram & Hart reattached them just fine. So what's all this? Digit rehab?" the man called 'Doyle' gestured to the video game.

"Yeah, well...sorta. Now, are you gonna get to the point of this little visit? Or are you gonna give me that 'the Powers That Be are counting on you to be their Champion' malarkey again?" Spike asked, before 'Doyle' pulled the plug on the TV screen and it went dark. "Oi! I never gave you permission to do that!"

"Well, how else was I gonna get your attention, Spike? Now listen up; I got a vision about Angel and his seer, that Cordelia Chase woman-"

"Old news, mate; I already know all about that," Spike growled, tossing aside the controller and getting up to face his guest. "The whelp went and exchanged himself for the bint; apparently it's a done deal, or whatever."

"Whelp? You mean...that comatose guy I saw in my vision?" 'Doyle' asked, playing his part to perfection in this little acting drama. "You know him?"

"Xander bloody Harris, yeah," Spike almost spat the name out in annoyance. "I'm telling you, even when he's not trying, he _**still**_ manages to bollocks everything up for me! Straightaway his friends came to town, including that effin' Faith..."

'Doyle' went still at hearing that name. "Faith, the Vampire Slayer?"

"Yeah, that's her. Couldn't keep her bleedin' mouth shut, could she? Bloody well ruined everything for me, where Buffy's concerned," Spike said, starting to brood over what had happened a few hours ago. "I'm telling you, mate, if she showed up here right now-"

"Hey, Spike! Need to talk to-" Faith suddenly barged into the apartment, given that 'Doyle' hadn't bothered to shut the front door behind him. The Slayer's eyes went wide as she recognized Spike's visitor. "You..."

"Piss off," Spike growled, before he noticed how Faith and 'Doyle' were staring at each other, and not him. "What-?"

"Long time no see, convict," 'Doyle' smiled, withdrawing a pocket knife that transformed into a hefty sword. "You're looking good for an escaped murderer..."

The Chosen One roared incoherently, charging forward; but 'Doyle' jumped high into the air, doing a backflip before the battle got started. Faith immediately grabbed one of Spike's weapons and the sword fight began, which also led to the vampire's apartment getting trashed in the process.

"Hey! Watch it, you lot, this is my bloody home you're wrecking!" Spike yelled, scooping up the TV monitor before 'Doyle' could crash into it.

"Then you oughta be more careful who you invite inside, Spike. Lindsey here, he's bad news," Faith said, in between striking at her opponent with all her supernatural strength.

"I could say the same thing about you, Faith. How many murders has it been? Three, including that guy who tried to rape you at that bus depot?" McDonald fired back, desperately parrying the Slayer's blade. { _Shit, this bitch isn't holding back at all...I gotta get out of here! _}

Unfortunately, Spike was standing in the doorway, barring the exit. "Lindsey? Wot? What the hell's going on 'ere?!"

"Me Faith. Him Lindsey. Wolfram & Hart lawyer, helped send me to jail for twenty-five to life," Faith said before dodging the latest attack and kicking McDonald in the chest, sending him crashing against the wall and leaving a big dent in the sheetrock.

Spike's eyes went wide, as he suddenly realized how he'd been played by the so-called seer. "Oh, you sodding..." Game face appearing the vampire tossed aside the monitor, rushed over to his 'sponsor' with undead super-speed, kicked the sword out of his hand, and grabbed him by the neck. "Been windin' me up right from the start, 'aven't you? That whole destiny thing? Helping the bloody helpless?"

Squeezing Lindsey's throat tighter, William the Bloody added, "People have tried to play puppet-master with me before, mate. Never worked out well for 'em. What's your game, then?"

"Bet you anything that it's got something to do with Angel," Faith said, not even breathing hard as she tossed her weapon to the floor. "Right, Lindsey? 'Cause I heard how he cut your hand off, way back when. Came back looking for revenge, or something?"

"Er some'ing," Lindsey gurgled before Spike let go of his throat, grabbed his right arm and wrenched it behind the lawyer's back.

"C'mon. If it's Angel you want, he can bloody well have you," Spike said menacingly, before he and Faith left the apartment with their prisoner.

* * *

**CEO office, Wolfram & Hart building**

**A while later**

Angel was reading a legal brief on one of Wolfram & Hart's clients who was up on a racketeering charge, a man named Greenway, when there was a knock at the door. He got up from behind his desk, opened up and saw Buffy standing there. "Hi. I wasn't expecting you to come back..."

"I know. And I'm not okay with regard to what we were discussing before, just so you know. But we still need to talk, especially about Xander," she said, as the young woman stepped inside. "Is now a good time?"

"Yeah, I suppose," Angel shrugged. "And, Xander?"

"Faith told me that one of your people, that Fred person, she promised she'd do everything possible to wake him up," Buffy said, a little uncertainly. "I'm just kinda worried about that, given what Giles told me and Willow on the phone-"

"Fred is the smartest woman I've got working here," Angel interrupted her. "And no matter how pissed she is at me right now, she's too good a person not to do everything in her power to help a man in need."

"Right – wait, why is your friend pissed at you?" Buffy asked, looking confused.

"Same reason that Wes is, actually. Because of the spell that Wolfram & Hart did to erase everyone's memories of my son," Angel confessed.

"Huh?"

"His name is Connor..." Angel then gave Buffy the same speech he'd given Gunn and Lorne, not long ago. And by the time he was finished, the Slayer was looking at him in horror. "Please don't look at me like that, Buffy. I know that what I did was...somewhat extreme..."

"Somewhat extreme?" the blonde woman demanded. "Is that how you see it? Instead of completely criminal?"

"Connor was my _**son**_," Angel said, his eyes begging her to understand. "My only child – who was stolen from me as a baby, and raised by my worst enemy to hate and kill me. What would you have done if you were in my shoes, Buffy? What if it had been Dawn who hated you that way, and would never listen to you on _**anything?**_ And was eventually willing to kill herself and everyone else in that department store, like Connor did?"

The blonde Chosen One shut her mouth, uncomfortably reminded of how her sister had gotten pissed enough for Buffy to suspect that Dawn really did hate her right now. "I don't know, Angel. All I know is, whenever you do something that you know beforehand is wrong – even with the best intentions, it always backfires somehow. _**Always**_**. **Like when my friends wanted to bring me back to life, and they decided to violate the laws of nature – just before they tore my soul out of Heaven..."

At that moment the door was suddenly blasted off its hinges, landing on the floor with a loud 'thump!' before a black-eyed Willow marched into the CEO's office. "Odds are you're going to need a new secretary. Harmony took one look at me downstairs, and ran off screaming," the redhead told Angel brusquely.

"Willow, what are you-?" Buffy started to say.

"Just thought I'd drop by for a little chat with Angel here, about screwing around with people's memories. Something that, to my shame, I happen to have quite a bit of experience in." Willow's black eyes held all of the anger that her calm voice didn't, as she answered Buffy's question. She then focused on the ensouled vampire before saying, "That was a really impressive spell, by the way; you definitely ought to congratulate the caster. If Wesley hadn't told me about it, I wouldn't have been able to undo what had been done to me. Without. My. Permission."

Angel backed away slowly. "Willow, what are you planning to do?"

"Not sure yet. Hey, given everything I did in Sunnydale? Sure, I'm in absolutely no position to throw stones – but just turning the other cheek, after what you did? I don't think so. Hmm, guess one option is to make _**you**_ forget all about your son. It'd be kinda fitting, I suppose – you being a victim of the same spell you inflicted on everyone else," Willow said way too calmly.

"Uh, Willow..." Buffy began to say uncertainly.

"Then again, I could always undo the soul curse I performed on you instead. Wouldn't take all that much to let Angelus out to play again," Willow added, ignoring her best friend.

"But, but Angel told us – Whistler, he, he said-" Buffy started to splutter.

"Yeah, I know. No more second chances if the soul ever goes bye-bye again, just a big pile of dust on the floor. But unlike that balance demon, I don't need to wait for a moment of perfect happiness," Willow said, advancing forward.

"You really going to kill me for doing what I had to do in order to save my son, Willow?" Angel asked her quietly, whilst backing away slowly again. He ignored how Angelus was howling for Willow's blood with equal amounts of fury and anxiety – as that soulless demon both hated and feared this particular witch, like no one else in the entire world.

"Oh, right, your handsome and yet somewhat androgynous son. The Miracle Child. Someone who's living a lie, who can't even recall who he really is! What do you think would happen, Angel, if I looked Connor up and made him remember what's what?" Willow demanded.

Angel's entire demeanor changed at once. "You're not gonna go anywhere near-"

Willow raised her right hand and gestured. Immediately, Angel's head jerked to the side. Three parallel cuts appeared on his cheek, bloody as if he'd been clawed by a wild beast – just like what had happened to Xander on Kingman's Bluff, way back when. The ensouled vampire put his hand up to his face, and then looked at his bloodstained fingers in astonished disbelief – before Angel focused warily on the black-eyed witch once more.

"You were saying?" Willow asked him in that way-too-calm voice. "And just so it's clear – I have no intention of visiting Connor, wherever the hell you've stashed him. If there's one thing I learned from growing up with Xander, it's that the sins of the father should _**never **_be visited upon the son. Besides – Connor doesn't deserve to suffer just because his dad thinks he can do whatever the hell he wants, and that the end justifies the means!"

Buffy was, by this point, getting more than a little worried. "Okay, I, I think that's enough, Will. You've made your point – and if Tara was here right now, she'd be telling you the same thing, I'm sure."

Willow turned to look at her, and Buffy held her gaze without flinching. Slowly, the blackness bled away from her eyes before Willow replied, "Yeah, guess you're right, Buff. But I'm pretty sure Xander wouldn't think that..."

The Summers woman never had a chance to reply, as loud voices outside the room interrupted the conversation – just before Lindsey, Spike and Faith entered into the office. "OW! Hey, watch it, you nearly dislocated my shoulder!" McDonald grumbled at the vampire, as Spike threw him forward and finally released him.

"Tough titties, mate. Oughta do a lot worse, what with you tryin' to bamboozle me like that," Spike fired back, before looking at Angel. "You know this bloody ponce?"

"Lindsey," the Irish-born vampire semi-growled. "What the hell are you doing back in L.A.?"

"I missed you too much to stay away?" Lindsey shrugged nonchalantly. "And what happened to your face, champ?"

Ignoring that, Angel grabbed hold of the lawyer's right arm. He yanked up Lindsey's sleeve and saw the tattoos, before he demanded, "What's all this?"

"Enochian symbols," Willow said, coming over to look for herself. "Probably some sort of protection spell, or something like that."

"Can you get rid of it?" Faith asked, before smirking at Lindsey. "And I _**wonder**_ what'll happen, if you do?"

"Can't be done," Lindsey said defiantly.

Willow, who was still plenty angry about Vail's memory modification spell, was only too happy to channel that anger into other pursuits. There was a ritual to remove the glyphs from Lindsey's body, to undo the concealment spell known as 'Clouds Before the All-Seeing Eyes.' But with her level of power, Willow didn't need it; she just shouted an ancient, terrible Word, and all the tattoos simply floated up from the man's body and vanished.

"Aggh, damn, that hurt!" Lindsey complained, feeling like his epidermis was on fire or something. "A lot!"

"Worse than when I cut off your hand?" Angel asked, trying not to get too happy about this.

"You-" Lindsey started to reply, before there was a flash of light and a portal shaped like a whirlwind appeared above him. "Oh, crap, it's the Senior Partners..." McDonald muttered, before he was sucked up through the air into the portal, which quickly closed behind him.

"And _**that**_ just totally makes my day," Faith said with a big smile, as yet another piece of her past was finally put to rest.

* * *

**Restricted area of the coma ward, Wolfram & Hart private hospital**

**January 26****th****, 2004**

As the clock ticked past midnight, Wesley checked that Fred had everything under control with Cordelia – thank heavens he'd been able to call her earlier, and the Burkle woman had been able to drop everything and get over here at once – and then he stepped outside into the corridor. Using the speed dial on Willow's cell phone, he quickly phoned the Council's headquarters in London.

"Hello? Willow?" Wesley heard Giles's voice say. "Are you there?"

"I'm afraid not, Mr. Giles. It's Wesley Wyndam-Pryce here," Wes replied.

"Wesley? Good Lord, man, I-I wasn't expecting to hear from you – and e-especially not using Willow's phone," Rupert's voice sounded very surprised. "What's going on over there?"

"Quite a lot, actually. Mr. Harris is still in a coma – although not for lack of attempting to achieve otherwise, on behalf of an individual named Ethan Rayne. An acquaintance of yours, apparently?"

"Ethan? Oh, y-yes, I know him. Bloody hell, he's finally turned up again? Just marvelous," Giles's voice now sounded very annoyed. "And he tried to wake up Xander, you say? Why? W-what on earth would be in it for him?"

"Well, from what I've gathered, most likely he was hired for the job by Angel's enemies here in a bid to return Cordelia to her comatose state – and strike at him that way," Wes said calmly. "The payment I can't even begin to guess at, unfortunately. Luckily, though, Cordelia had a vision of what would happen, and managed to stop the mage in question from succeeding in his plans. Apparently, this Rayne chap vanished while Cordelia attempted to tackle him to the floor, even though he managed to inflict a 'clementia nigrum' spell on Willow before he disappeared."

"The black mercy? Oh dear. Is, is Willow all right?" Giles sounded concerned.

"When I spoke with her a few minutes ago, she seemed...angry," Wesley said. "But that's neither here nor there right now. Myself, I'm more concerned about moving Mr. Harris to a more secure facility, in order to ensure Cordelia's safety. Because this incident has all the hallmarks of an inside job, so to speak."

"Hmm, I see. What do the doctors say – is the boy in any shape to be flown back to England?" Rupert's voice sounded dubious to Wesley's ear.

Having spoken to Fred and Cordelia's doctor about the subject, Wesley shook his head before saying, "Regrettably, no. And from what I've heard, that might not be the best course of action, anyway – especially given what that Whistler person said yesterday. Apparently, Mr. Harris quit the Council months ago – so I rather doubt he'd want to feel indebted to it, once the coma ends?"

There was a brief silence from England, and Wesley was willing to bet almost anything that his compatriot was polishing his glasses after hearing that. Rupert's voice eventually said, "I, for one, doubt that Xander would want to feel indebted to Angel that way, either. So if it's a case of choosing between the lesser of two terrible evils, a-as it were..."

"I wouldn't have any opinion on that. I no longer work for that vampire, after all," Wesley said coldly.

"You don't?" Giles's voice sounded very surprised after hearing that. "Errr, may I ask what brought this on?"

"An incident which released previously suppressed memories," Wesley said in a clipped, curt tone. "I made it clear to Angel that I didn't appreciate being treated like a marionette which he could _**manipulate**_ that way, and resigned from Wolfram & Hart forthwith."

"I see. Hmmm," Giles's voice sounded thoughtful now. "I-if that's the case – then may I offer you a job?"

"Me? Work for you?" Wes was stunned. "Work for the Council again?"

"For heaven's sake, man, we're still incredibly short on staff – so if you're available, o-o-of course you're welcome to join us," Rupert's voice said, somewhat testily. "I-it sounds like we need a Council presence in Los Angeles, and you've had at least five years' worth of experience in that city. So I, I can't think of any reason _**not**_ to hire you – can you?"

Wesley remained silent, thinking it over. "I suppose not. Still, just so it's clear, I haven't made any definite decision yet."

"Then I'll send Andrew over to talk to you about it," Giles's voice sounded very determined as he said that.

"Mr. Wells? Really, Mr. Giles – is that absolutely necessary?" Wes asked in distaste.

"Well, it's more for his sake than yours, um – given that, apparently, h-he's just inadvertently insulted a clan of Miquot demons here in London, and they want Andrew's head on a pike. O-or some such thing," Rupert's voice contained an audible sigh. "If you could...?"

"Oh, very well," Wesley sighed. He then said a brief farewell to Giles, before hitting the Disconnect button. Wyndam-Pryce then looked around at the hospital corridor, feeling somewhat bemused. Five years ago, the offer he'd just received would have been a dream come true, but now?

{ _Never mind, there's no rush just yet. I have all the time I need now to make my decision,_ } Wes thought to himself, feeling an odd sense of freedom for the first time in months. { _Yes, I have all the time in the world..._ }

Or so he thought, anyway.

TBC...


	8. Maybe Something In You Sees Something

See Part One for disclaimer and details. Welcome to the latest chapter of the fic! Thanks to everyone who's gotten in touch - and wow! There was a record number of responses to the last chapter, we definitely weren't expecting that. Plus people seemed to either love it or hate it, and we honestly weren't expecting such a polarising effect. Still, review junkies that we are, we're not complaining! Please keep those reviews and PMs coming, seriously. Anyway, enough about all that; let's get on with -

* * *

**Part Eight: Maybe Something In You Sees Something Special In Me**

**Wolfram & Hart building, Los Angeles**

**January 26****th****, 2004**

Eve was, quite frankly, having one hell of a panic attack right now.

Her spy at the hospital had told her that Ethan Rayne hadn't succeeded in waking up that never-to-be-sufficiently-damned maggot, Harris; that Angel's Seer had had some sort of vision about what Rayne was up to, and rushed in to stop him. The mole wasn't sure exactly what had happened after that – all he knew was that there had been some sort of eye-searing explosion of white light in the hospital room: and, afterwards, Rayne was nowhere to be found, and Harris was still in his coma.

{ _That precognitive half-demon bitch probably vaporized that stupid, dying bastard. And while normally I'd just say 'good riddance', Rayne's fuck-up now means it'll be impossible to get someone else in there, in order to finish the job. If I know him, Angel will have put armed guards outside Harris's room as well as all over the hospital, in order to protect his gods-be-damned little whore, _} Eve fumed. { _Damn it, what __**else**__ can go wrong? _}

Eve really should have known better than to jinx herself that way; because at that exact moment, Lindsey was sucked upwards into that portal in Angel's office, and her 'extra-curricular activities' were no longer safely hidden from the minds of her creators.

Less than fifteen minutes later, Eve was running out of the Wolfram & Hart building to hide in Lindsey's apartment – which was protected by the same runic symbols that had previously hidden her boyfriend from supernatural and electronic detection – her immortal life in ruins, and with a huge target now painted on her back.

* * *

**Somewhere underneath Los Angeles**

**The same time**

For a moment, the dark chamber was silent until a ritual chanting began. Nine voices said as one, "Of the world's woe, now convene. All is bound by the Circle and its thorns. Invisible, inviolate, we, the seeds of the storm, at the center of the world's woe, now convene."

Even though it wasn't exactly common knowledge, the Circle of the Black Thorn had been created after the Senior Partners had been driven out of the mortal plane; along with the surviving pure demons known as the Old Ones. The members of the Circle, the self-fashioned Black Thorns, were charged with the task of being the driving force behind Wolfram & Hart's apocalyptic plans and maintaining 'man's inhumanity to man'. All so that the Senior Partners could eventually return and, one day, seize control openly.

All nine members of the Circle – Cyvus Vail, the demon Archduke Sebassis, Senator Helen Brucker, the Grand Potentate of the Fell Brethren named Ed, the leader of the Sahrvin demon clan, Izzerial the Devil, as well as three other human-looking men – had gathered here this evening. And once the chanting was over and the meeting had officially begun, Vail stared at the other eight members of the Circle sitting around the table. "The sleeper has awoken," he wheezed painfully.

"You're sure about that?" Izzerial asked, wanting direct confirmation that Cordelia was now awake.

"Yes," Vail rasped, panting loudly. "Angel's Seer has been seen awake, aware and ambulatory. Even though all that was never supposed to happen."

"I must admit, I am curious as to how this has come about," Sebassis mused, taking a short sip of blood that had been extracted from his blindfolded slave. He stared at Vail, adding, "Especially since you assured us that we had nothing to worry about, where that woman was concerned."

Brucker suddenly looked angry. "I didn't claw my way out of Hell and into a human body, just to miss out on getting control of the White House – if something goes wrong with our plans concerning that little slut!"

Sebassis immediately glared at her, from his position at the head of the table. "Remember your place, Senator."

"My place is in the Circle, Archduke," Brucker replied at once, showing no signs of weakness or fear. There were no weaklings within _**this **_secret society, after all, even if Sebassis was the first amongst equals and all the other members of the Circle were afraid of him to some degree.

"This bickering amongst ourselves is pointless," the Sahrvin demon leader said in annoyance.

"Agreed. What can you tell us about why the plan concerning the Seer has been disrupted?" one of the human-looking members of the Circle demanded from Cyvus.

"There was interference from an unexpected source," Vail replied, still wheezing like a human with emphysema. "A human who directly petitioned the Powers for help to save the Seer, and sacrificed himself to take the woman's place."

"A _**human**_ did that?" Ed of the Fell Brethren demanded in disbelief.

"So, who exactly was this particular individual?" another of the human-looking members of the Circle asked.

"He is known by various titles. The Prophecy Breaker. The Chaos Bringer. The One Who Sees Everything. The Defender of Mankind, even," Vail rasped.

"Ah. Isn't he the one who got around that inevitable prophecy within the Pergamum Codex, six or seven years ago?" Izzerial said, looking around the table.

"Not to mention, the one who prevented that mad witch from destroying this world eighteen months ago?" Ed subsequently asked.

"He sounds like a troublemaker to me," Senator Brucker sniffed disdainfully.

"Agreed. Why hasn't he been assassinated yet?" the Sahrvin demon leader demanded.

"After what he did concerning Angel's Seer, it was considered unwise to draw the personal attention of the Powers That Be by interfering with him directly." Cyvus exhaled noisily, not knowing of Eve's clumsy attempts to 'fix' the situation.

"Does anyone here wish to dispute that judgment?" the Archduke asked, looking around the table. And fortunately for Xander's longevity prospects, no one did.

"Personally, I'm more concerned about the mother of that renegade Power – that Cordelia Chase woman," Senator Brucker stared at Cyvus meaningfully.

"Why?" the third human-looking member of the Black Thorn commented, looking at Brucker curiously.

"Need I point out the obvious? She should never have woken up, and we were caught flat-footed with that whole 'Jasmine' mess, remember?" Helen said scathingly.

"True. But even so, that particular higher being is gone now, and her mother's threat potential is limited. Seer or not, augmented or not – she is only one woman, after all," Sebassis said, before taking another sip of that blue blood from his champagne flute.

"So, what about Angel? With his Seer awakened, what's to keep him from slipping his leash and becoming a problem again?" Ed demanded.

"His son, Connor," Cyvus growled, before drawing in a loud, wet-sounding breath. "The vampire knows that he has to behave, if he doesn't want his boy to remember who and what he really is."

If only he'd known that Whistler was standing not five feet away, listening in on the Circle's conversation but unable to seen or perceived in any way, the demon warlock wouldn't have been _**quite **_so sure about that.

* * *

**CEO office, Wolfram & Hart building**

**A while later**

The sun had finally come up, and for the rest of Los Angeles, it was a fairly bright and sunny Monday morning. All over the city people were getting up, having breakfast, walking the dog, shaving or showering or whatever other mundane thing the human masses did, after the weekend was over.

But not so Angel. He was brooding in his office, having spent an uncomfortable night alone in his penthouse suite, after everyone else had left the building last night.

The undead CEO still wasn't entirely sure what was going on around here, to be honest. First, Lindsey had shown up, dragged into his office by Spike and Faith of all people, before the lawyer had been – well, 'abducted' was probably the best word for it, by the Senior Partners. Then, when Angel had started looking for Eve to demand answers regarding what the Wolf, Ram and Hart were up to, he had found out that she had vanished completely. As in, without a trace.

Angel hadn't gotten to where he was today without refusing to believe in coincidence. He had quickly suspected that Eve and Lindsey had been in cahoots together all along, planning something – and now that McDonald had been exposed, she had run for it, to avoid both his wrath and that of the Senior Partners. { _Well, never mind. They'll probably just send someone else to replace her, quicker than you can say 'evil liaison'. It'll just take me a while to housetrain the new guy, that's all._ }

The intercom buzzed, and Angel picked up the phone. "Yeah, Harmony, what is it?" He ignored the fact that the soulless blonde was still working here, at least for now; there were higher priorities at the moment than finding himself a new secretary, after all.

Angel listened for a moment and then said hurriedly, "Well, show them in!" He put down the receiver and came out from behind his desk as Fred and Cordelia came in. He said with a big smile, "Fred, Cordy, I'm glad you're both here-"

"I quit," Fred cut him off sternly, her eyes gazing deeply into the vampire's. "I just thought, seeing as how I owe you my life several times over, both here and in Pylea, I'd do you the courtesy of informing you of that in person. Instead of with a resignation letter, or whatever."

"You're, you're leaving?" Angel's jaw dropped open before he quickly shut it again. "But, but I thought you were staying, in order to-"

"Fred can't help Xander recover from the coma any sooner than it takes for him to wake up on his own," Cordelia said tiredly. "He told me last night not to let anyone try to do something like that, anyway."

"He did? Uh...but if Xander's still in a coma, then how...?" Angel now looked very confused.

"Are you sure you're gonna be okay here, all by yourself?" Fred asked Cordelia solicitously, ignoring the vampire completely.

"Positive, Fred. Now go on, shoo," Cordy told her Texan friend with a weary-looking smile.

"All right. I'll be packing my stuff and clearing out my office; wait for me down by the front doors of this place, if I'm not finished by the time you're done in here." Fred hesitated, and then looked back at the ensouled vampire. "Goodbye, Angel." She then turned around and left the office without another word.

"She's never going to forgive me for doing what I had to do with regards to that spell, is she?" Angel asked semi-rhetorically.

"I don't know. I don't know if _**I**_ could, if I was in her or Wesley's shoes," Cordelia said in reply.

Angel focused his attention back on the woman he loved. Her eyes – there was something different about them. Nothing physical, but – Angel had walked the Earth for three centuries, and he had seen that look in the eyes of other human beings before. Mostly in the elderly – who had lived for so many decades that they already had one foot in the grave, to use the old saying. "Cordelia? What's wrong? What's happened to you?"

"What's happened to me?" Cordelia snorted, before concentrating on her vampire friend. "I've lived an entire freaking lifetime while I was inside Xander's head, that's what's happened to me."

Angel didn't get that at all. "Huh?"

Cordelia exhaled, and quickly described what had happened last night. Ethan Rayne, her vision in the hospital corridor, the British wizard's efforts to wake Xander up, her interrupting his attempt to do so, the conversation with Xander's subconscious inside the man's mind, the various aspects of his psyche that had been caged up for her protection – everything that had happened, just about.

"Wow. That's just – I mean, you really – and then you – uh, wow," Angel repeated himself, still trying to process all of that. "And, seriously, Xander's subconscious exists in the shape of a woman? More than one, even?"

"Not all the time. I guess he's just more in touch with his feminine side than most other guys," Cordelia shrugged, seeming to consider that part of it as irrelevant.

Angel suddenly seemed to realize something. "Uh, why did you wait until _**now**_ to tell me about all this? I'd have set up guards in that hospital, to make sure no one tried to do that to you again! I'd have-"

"Angel? Please shut up, and listen to me," Cordelia interrupted him softly. "Because all the people who work here, apart from Gunn and Lorne? They answer to the Senior Partners before they answer to you. And do you honestly think that that Ethan guy wasn't hired by someone who works right here, in this building? Angel, do you seriously expect me to entrust Xander's safety – and by extension, my own – to anyone in possession of a sub-machinegun, and who's employed by this evil nest of snakes?"

{ _Ouch._ } "So what's the alternative?" Angel asked slowly.

"Wes and Faith have already yanked Xander out of that hospital, of course. Weird as it sounds, I think that Little Miss Former Psycho volunteering herself to become Xander's personal bodyguard is probably the best option available – for now, anyway. And personally, I just came here to ask you if Faith and I could move into the Hyperion for a while. Because I don't have my apartment anymore, Faith's house is in Cleveland, and I can't think of any better place to live in and take care of my ex-boyfriend than there," Cordelia said, fairly slowly.

"The hotel is yours for as long as you want, you don't even need to ask," Angel said quickly, and Cordelia nodded, looking grateful. "But what I can do to help? I mean, until Xander wakes up, you're in danger-"

"Oh, geez – did everything I just said go in one ear, and then straight out the other? Come _**on**_, Angel!" Cordelia interrupted him firmly, her voice suddenly becoming a lot more animated. "What were you planning to do, put a S.W.A.T. team in place to keep watch on the hotel? Fine – but what if one of your toy soldiers has secret orders from the Senior Partners to assassinate the rest of his team, and then finish the job that that Ethan guy started? Don't you get it? Aren't you listening to me? Anything and anyone with Wolfram & Hart, it. Can't. Be. Trusted! What is it gonna take to make you _**understand **_that?"

Angel recoiled from the vehemence in her tone. "So what are you saying, that I can't trusted as well?"

"Urrggghhh!" Cordy looked like she wanted to bang her head against the nearest wall of the office. "_**Men!**_ Swear to God, you're all the same. Angel, let me put this as simply as I can. You're my friend, and I trust _**you**_. But you're...well, I don't wanna say 'compromised', but-"

"That's the best word that fits, at least in your mind," Angel interrupted. "And like I said before, you've changed. You weren't like this the other day; you may have been upset about what I did regarding Connor and that memory spell, but you still would have trusted me enough to believe that I knew what I was doing where your safety's concerned. Why the big change, Cordelia? Is it just because I wasn't able to prevent that sorcerer from nearly putting you back into a coma?"

"No, it's not that." The Seer shook her head sadly and said, "Angel – do you remember what you said about that Jasmine thing the other day, after that Whistler guy showed up? How we were all manipulated, right from the start? That our lives over the years, just about everything we did – that was all part of its big master plan? I'm betting you don't know just how right you were, when you said that. But I do. And so does Xander."

Angel's mind somehow made the connection. "What you said before, living an entire lifetime while you were in Xander's mind. You mean...?"

"If it hadn't been for him cheating on me with Willow, we'd have never broken up – and the dork and I woulda been married and expecting our first child by now," Cordelia told him firmly, which made the ensouled vampire want to cringe in horror. "I saw it all, Angel. Xander and I got out of Sunnydale, we built careers and lives for ourselves until death did us part – and most importantly, we didn't spend every moment of every freaking day fighting and bleeding and slowly dying for the cause. It was _**everything**_ I ever wanted, whenever I thought about what the future held for us in high school! And to think, it was all taken away from me – from _**us**_ – just so that I'd end up being your Vision Girl, and dead before my twenty-fourth birthday!"

{ _No. No, I don't believe it. No way, that's just completely ridiculous!_ } Angel couldn't force himself to accept as true what Cordelia had said – it simply wasn't in his nature to do so. And he had to ask it, even if he doubted she believed she was in error. "Uh, are you sure you couldn't have been..." He trailed off, suddenly mindful of the woman's temper just now.

"Mistaken?" The Seer asked him with an upraised eyebrow. "I sure as hell don't think so. Because that wasn't the only memory I experienced, while I was inside Xander's head."

"There's more?!" Angel asked, flabbergasted.

"Yeah. Do you remember those trials Whistler mentioned? The ones that Lame Boy had to undergo before he could beg the Powers to save my life, somehow?" Cordelia asked in a hollow tone of voice. "I saw and felt all that, too, Angel! Every single moment of it. Especially when Xander thought he'd have to die to pass that final test in order to save me, and he told that Jeeves guy to go ahead and kill him – if that was what it took." She shook her head. "Really makes a girl think, when a guy's willing to do something like that for her – and he isn't even wondering about trying to get her back, y'know?"

Angel did know – he had never forgotten his own Trials in order to save Darla from the syphilitic heart condition which had been killing her, as a human – and at that moment, he understood (or thought he understood) why Cordelia was being so protective of her high school boyfriend. Harris now represented something truly meaningful to her – something which she could point at and say, 'see, my life hasn't been a complete waste of time!'

Angel also believed Cordelia was being incredibly over-emotional right now, what with everything that had happened over the past two days, and thinking thoughts about Harris that were patently ludicrous. But everything would settle down again soon, and go back to what it had been before. It had to; because he had been part of Cordelia's life for nearly half a decade, whereas Xander hadn't...

It never occurred to Angel that the past four and a half years might no longer compare favorably to the twelve years before that, within the young woman's mind; or that when Cordelia had rejected him in that hospital room, 'no' had meant _**no**_ instead of 'maybe' or 'ask me again later'. Plus, self-deception was not a trait limited only to the males of the human species –

Thus, conveniently forgetting about the lethal implications of Cordelia giving him a moment of perfect happiness, Angel thought he just had to be patient and make sure not to alienate his seer completely; which meant that right now, whatever she wanted – especially where Xander was concerned – she got. No questions asked.

"So, uh, you and Faith will be moving back into the hotel. With Xander. We've settled that, right? But, uh, what are you gonna do for money?" Angel asked tentatively, before holding up his arms in surrender. "Not wanting to get you all angry about it, but you gotta know that taking proper care of a coma victim isn't gonna be cheap, right? And, uh, I can help there, if you want it."

"Thanks for the offer – but I don't think that'll be necessary," Cordelia said, shaking her head. "If I know Buffy and Willow, they'll get Giles to send Faith all the money we'll need. But even if they don't, I wasn't exactly planning on just sitting around the hotel and reading _Cosmo_ and _Marie Claire_ all day! I'll find some way to support myself. Whether that involves working with the Council, or something else, I'll figure something out."

Angel automatically opened his mouth to say that she didn't have to do that, he could easily provide whatever she needed – but luckily for him, his brain-to-mouth filter kicked in, just in the nick of time. "So, uh, where _**are**_ Buffy and Willow? I haven't seen them since last night."

Cordelia looked surprised. "You haven't heard? They're gone."

"Gone? What do you mean, gone?" Angel asked with an astonished look on his face. "Wait, you don't mean...?"

"Huh? OH! No, you moron, they're not 'dead' gone; they're just 'left the city' gone," Cordelia said, briefly looking exasperated. "Faith told me how they got an emergency call from England. Buffy had to go back to Europe to help deal with some kinda situation in Romania, and Willow had to hightail it back to South America; apparently someone in the know recognized her on the streets, and was spreading the news all over the place. They asked me to say sorry on how they couldn't say goodbye to you in person – well, Buffy did, anyway. Willow just sorta grunted, with a look of disgust on her face."

{ _Yeah, that doesn't exactly surprise me much,_ } Angel thought glumly to himself. He then went over to his desk, and opened a drawer. Grabbing a set of keys, he gave them to Cordelia and said, "The keys to the hotel. That's where all your stuff's been kept in storage, by the way. And call me if there's anything that needs to be taken care of with the old girl, okay?"

"You mean, like me and Faith paying rent while we're staying there?"

Angel stared at Cordelia in shock. "What? NO! I never...I mean, I didn't give you the impression that I was expecting...did I? Because I'm not! I-"

"I was just kidding, geez! Seriously, Angel, chill out – okay?" Cordelia sent him a weak version of her toothpaste commercial megawatt smile, but at least she _**did**_ smile. At him. "I'll see you around." She gave the Irish-born vampire a quick peck on the cheek, before turning around and leaving.

It took everything Angel had not to run after her, take Cordelia in his arms and kiss her like there was no tomorrow. Beg her to be with him, the way he yearned for with all his heart and soul, now and forever after. Still, somehow he managed to do it, knowing that right now the Seer would just refuse and break his heart all over again.

Which totally, royally, sucked.

* * *

**A place where nothing need be what it seems**

**A while later**

Finding herself lying on her back on top of a picnic blanket, Cordelia blinked, opened her eyes and sat up, looking around at the woods-y wilderness.

Trying to remember what happened, the Seer recalled arriving at the Hyperion with Fred, Wesley, Faith and Xander's comatose body, unlocking the front doors and fondly thinking 'home, sweet home' as everyone entered the premises and she guided the gurney into the lobby. There had followed a brief discussion on what to do next, like hiring a registered nurse to look after Xander properly and cleaning up the hotel a bit to make it livable once more. Wesley had then confessed about Giles' offer to work for the Council again, and Fred had wondered if they could also use a physicist-slash-demon fighter like her, before Faith had mentioned that she'd need to negotiate for a decent salary first...

Cordelia shook the memories away. { _How the hell did I get here, wherever 'here' is?_ }

"Hey," a familiar male voice said, as Xander smiled and plopped down next to her on the blanket.

"XANDER?!" Cordelia exclaimed, her eyes suddenly as wide as saucers. "But, but you're – I mean, how...?"

"You figure it out, sweetheart," Harris smiled at her. The one-eyed man then started unpacking the plastic grocery bag full of food that he had brought with him. "Here you go, tuna and turkey sandwiches made by my mom; they were supposed to be for the relatives, but everyone usually gets drunk before she gets around to actually serving food, so it was pretty safe grabbing them for you."

"Wait, your mom? But Willow said that she and your dad have, like, disappeared..." Then she suddenly figured it out. "I'm dreaming, aren't I?"

"Yep. Knew you could do it! This was your favorite day in Sunnydale, apparently," the dream version of Xander said as he passed her a sandwich. "Everything just went...right. You got along okay with your parents, your friends acted civil to you during cheerleader practice, you never crossed paths with Buffy or Willow or Giles, no demons or monsters jumped out to attack you, and I, Xander Harris, was unable to focus on absolutely anything except you," he said with a chuckle. "When we were alone out here in the woods, we weren't even kissing – and yet, I was looking at you like you were my...everything. A girl tends to remember that sort of thing."

"I guess. And hey, yeah, I remember that day now! It was shortly after the whole swim team Fish Monster thing," Cordelia nodded, as she accepted a juice box from him. "You're right, I was real happy that day; geez, this is one of the few truly good memories of Sunnydale that I have. And I have to admit, once I heard that the whole damn town had vanished into the ground? I wanted to _**celebrate **_the fact that it was finally dead and gone!"

"I know," 'Xander' said, leaning in slightly. "Because not only did you end up truly hating the place, Sunnydale just wasn't for you. You were always destined for greater things than hanging around in a one-Starbucks town like that. About the only thing you should have done different, before you left that damned hellhole behind you, is hit the real me over the head, drag my ass onto that bus and then sit on me, all the way to Los Angeles..."

"Eww, and get my clothes all smelly and wrinkled? As if!" Cordelia scrunched up her nose in distaste, which made 'Xander' laugh. "Still, you're right. And what the hell, it might have happened that way – if we hadn't had that huge fight, just before we parted company during your lameass road trip. Skip's doing, you think?"

"Who knows?" 'Xander' shrugged. "It might have been – or it might not, either. I'm pretty sure that evil demon _**thing**_ wasn't responsible for every fight you and your boyfriend had, especially after you got impaled by that rebar. And that's because you're Cordelia Chase, and you don't take shit like that from anybody. Not the real me, not Angel, not Wes or Groo or even Doyle. Huh – kinda funny how you constantly fell for the dumb ones that way, isn't it?"

"Yeah, very funny, ha-ha. Freakin' hilarious," Cordelia made a face as her dream companion chuckled again. "God damn it, when I think of all the time we _**wasted**_..."

"Wasted?" 'Xander' raised an eyebrow, something Cordelia recognized as a move she'd practiced countless times in the mirror – to immediately put an unruly Cordette or an ugly freshman back in her place, something which had happened a lot during this point in her life. "Now, you _**do**_ know that old saying about making assumptions, don't you? Because the real me didn't spend all those years after high school, waiting for you to arrive from L.A. and take him back. He found someone else; that Anya girl he mentioned in his letters, and who Willow told you about during her phone calls over the years. And sure, he fucked up by leaving the evil fairy godmother at the altar; but you heard from Faith how much he grieved for that girl, after the Hellmouth finally went ker-blooey. So what makes you assume you can take her place, just like that?"

"Damn it, I'm not assuming that! I'm not! I _**know**_ it's not gonna be as simple as 'hey, you saved my life! Now let's get back together!' – because I'm not that _**dumb**_," Cordelia glared at the guy. "But I'm Cordelia Chase, damn it all to hell. Whenever I make up my mind that I want something, I go after it and get it!"

"And you've made up your mind that you want the real me, rather than Angel?" 'Xander' asked her. "I mean, was Willow right? Do you still have feelings for your high school boyfriend?"

Cordelia hesitated before saying, "I think so, yeah. And don't get me wrong, Angel's a Champion and a freaking gorgeous guy – I mean, different circumstances? I could and would have fallen for him big-time, and done whatever I had to so that we could have had a future together. But not now. Not after everything I learned, while I was inside the real Xander's head..."

"You're thinking that maybe, just maybe, it's not too late for Jesse and Joyce to be born?" 'Xander' asked. "That you can get back at least part of the semi-perfect life Jasmine and Skip stole from you? Again, sweetheart, that thing about assumptions..."

"I know, damn it! I fucking know!" Cordelia swore. "We're totally different people now, and I _**know**_ it won't turn out like in the vision that African witch doctor cooked up. But I sure as hell intend, by all that's pure and good, to _**try**_ to bring about the happily-ever-after that was stolen from Xander and me! And God help anyone who tries to get in my way!"

'Xander' leaned forward again, and for a moment, Cordy thought he was going to kiss her. Instead, an unfamiliar voice came out of this mouth, saying, "Miss Chase? Please, wake up! Miss Chase?"

Cordelia blinked as the world momentarily went black, and then she found herself laying on the main couch within the Hyperion's lobby. She blinked again, staring up at Andrew's concerned face. "Huh? Wha – who are you?"

Andrew straightened up, and dug a pipe out of one of his jacket pockets. "I'm Andrew Wells, my good woman. Special operative of the Council of Watchers of Great Britain. I'm here to meet with my hopefully soon-to-be colleague, Wesley Wyndam-Pryce. And check out the situation with my former colleague, Alexander LaVelle Harris." He then stuck the pipe and lit it, coughing slightly as the tobacco entered his lungs. "If you would be so kind to assist me in these matters?"

"Oh, ye gods. The Earth is so _**totally**_ doomed," Cordelia groaned, letting her head fall back onto the couch's pillow with a big thud.

TBC...


	9. Awakening

See Part One for disclaimer and details. Greetings and salutations to you, oh faithful readers! Thanks to you, this fanfic has just passed the 10,000 hits mark, which is enough to give us a warm happy feeling deep inside. Thank you for the feedback and reviews as well, which just keep on coming! And it goes without saying, please don't stop now. Okay, quite a few people have asked in their PMs, "When is Xander gonna wake up?!" and so we must reply: sooner than you think. And if you want to know more, read on...

* * *

**Part Nine: Awakening**

**Outside Dr. Sparrow's clinic, Los Angeles**

**February 6****th****, 2004**

Gunn's head was spinning, as he left the surgery and the words of Wolfram & Hart's private brain specialist echoed in his memory. { _And believe me, Charles, I don't make deals with people like __**you**__. Not the person you really are, the ignorant street muscle...the high school dropout. I would, however, love to make a deal with Charles Gunn, attorney at law. _}

So much had changed within the past two weeks...almost everything, in fact. Ever since Cordelia had woken up and everyone had found out what Angel had done with that memory-wipe spell of his, most of the group had quit their jobs and left. Even Lorne had decided to hand in his notice and leave the law firm, the morning after Fred had told them what was what. Gunn hadn't – but now, he wasn't sure whether it was time for him to depart as well.

Because the legal brain imprint the Senior Partners had given him, the upgrade involving knowledge of human and demon law, the various languages, and everything else – it was fading. Dr. Sparrow had told him that his neural modifications had almost vanished completely, and if that was the case, it had to be because that was the way the Wolf, Ram and Hart wanted it.

Then, perhaps not entirely unexpectedly, had come the offer of a deal. A permanent upgrade, in exchange for him cutting through Sparrow's red tape problems regarding some sort of 'curio' being held up at customs. Gunn didn't doubt for a moment that it was a deal with the Devil – and yet, despite knowing that he would end up paying a cost that would almost certainly be too high, he was still tempted to go through with the bargain...

{ _And then what?_ } Charles suddenly asked himself, as he got into his car and drove off. { _Look around you, pal – everyone else has left Wolfram & Hart, just about. It's just you and Angel – Harmony doesn't really count, and both Faith and Spike only show up when there's an emergency of some kind. Just how far are you willing to go, in order to prevent yourself from going back to what you were_? }

That was a question which Charles Gunn couldn't answer. That was why he found himself heading for the Hyperion, and arriving at Angel's hotel; without really making a conscious decision to talk to someone there about his problem. { _Huh, home sweet home..._ }

Except that walking through the courtyard and arriving at the front doors of the place, the Hyperion honestly didn't feel like that to him anymore. Gunn could remember spending some of the happiest days of his life here – he'd had a girlfriend, and a mission, and even a family, despite them not being related to him in blood. But now – he and Fred were no longer an item, the family had split apart at the seams, and as for his mission...

{ _Wolfram & Hart lawyer versus vampire killer. Lord, things sure have changed, haven't they?_ } Gunn thought to himself as he entered the hotel lobby. Only to find Wesley, Cordelia and a white guy he didn't recognize sitting and talking on the couch.

"So tell me more, David. What kind of building are we talking about, exactly?" Wes asked, leaning forward.

David Nabbit leaned back, shrugging. "It depends. What did you guys have in mind?"

"Something big. Big enough in order to house all the Vampire Slayers that will be stationed in Los Angeles soon," Wesley said reflectively.

"But we don't want the place to be some sort of abandoned wreck, either – I mean, Xander will be needing medical care 'til he wakes up, and Slayer super-strength? Those girls will probably be ripping the handles off all the doors, if the place isn't up to code," Cordelia said acerbically.

"Okay, well, there's a new hotel I know of that's about 80% built – but after the L.A. tourism industry dried up thanks to the whole permanent midnight thing, the investor money likewise vanished to finish off its construction," David mused. "I'd have put in the company's money myself, but Nabtech's board of directors weren't interested. Still, we're talking indoor pool, hot tubs and workout rooms..."

"Something that'd make it a very popular Slayer hangout," Cordelia nodded.

"What'll it cost?" After David named a figure, Wes nodded. "All right – I'll talk to Mr. Giles, and see what I can do to acquire the funds to purchase the place. Hopefully, it can become our new headquarters..."

"Don't like staying in Angel's hotel, huh?" Gunn interrupted, after clearing his throat. He had gotten tired of waiting for everyone to notice his presence and added, "Not all that surprising, I guess."

"Gunn, what are you doing here?" Cordelia asked him in surprise.

"Got a decision to make," Charles replied. He then added, "Needed to talk to someone about it."

"You're thinking of leaving Wolfram & Hart?" Wes asked, his eyes narrowing. It wasn't too hard for him to have arrived at that conclusion, after all.

"Yeah," Gunn nodded, but deciding not to say anything else about it to these two. He already knew what their reactions would be. "Faith around?"

"No, actually, she's not," Cordelia frowned. "I think she went to the East Hills Homeless Shelter today, something about-"

"Annie's place?" Gunn interrupted. "Yeah, okay, I might go see her there. Be good to catch up with an old friend, while I'm at it. Thanks." He quickly turned around and left the hotel, ignoring the questions from both Wesley and Cordelia as the lawyer decided to head for his new destination.

The homeless shelter in question had been a safe haven for both him and his sister Alonna, long before he had met Angel and the others. Charles suddenly remembered the many nights when the two of them had crashed there, along with the various crack heads, runaways, and abuse victims that had had nowhere else to go. So he asked himself, { _Why haven't you done more to help Annie out? Damn it, it's been damn near nine months – and not once have you visited the place. Hell, even a week's worth of your salary woulda been enough to keep the shelter going for nearly half a year! Face it. You screwed up, man, big time!_ }

Such thoughts were not exactly welcome in Gunn's mind, as his car pulled up in front of the building. He was already in turmoil about the decision he had to make, concerning Dr. Sparrow – so the last thing he needed on top of that was a case of the guilts, where this place was concerned! "Hello? Annie?"

"Charles!" Anne 'Annie' Steele replied, giving the black man a swift hug after he came in through her front door. "How are you doing?"

"Eh, could be better. Yourself?"

"Still fighting the good fight, I guess." Anne grabbed a box from a nearby pile and put it down on the floor, as Gunn rushed to help her. "How are things uptown?"

"More fight, less good." Gunn moved a couple of boxes himself.

"Sounds serious," Annie said, eyeing him speculatively.

"Yeah. And sorry I haven't been around – for nearly a year." Gunn's voice was suddenly full of self-recrimination.

"Okay, that's it," Annie said, putting the last box down and guiding him over to a couch. "It sounds like you need to talk."

"Yeah, I do. Faith around?"

"No, she left about ten minutes ago. But I'm here, if you want a sympathetic ear."

He thought about it, and upon deciding that this woman might be a better confidante than the Slayer, Gunn told her everything. Right from the first day when Buffy and her people had shown up at the Hyperion, and then he and the rest of Angel's group had taken over Wolfram & Hart, all the way up to his meeting with Dr. Sparrow earlier today. "So, that's it. Either I do a deal with this guy, or I end up being what I was before-"

"Charles?" Annie interrupted. "Have you talked about this with your friends? Or Angel? And if not, why not?"

"Lorne's gone, and I already know what Fred, Wes and Cordelia would say – they left Wolfram & Hart straightaway, remember? And Angel – ah, hell, hate to admit it...but deep down, I can't really trust him to act in my best interests anymore," Gunn confessed painfully. "The guy was willing to mind-wipe me and everyone else that way, who knows how he'd react to this! I mean, before – basically, I was just the muscle at Angel Investigations, ya know? But Angel's got heaps of S.W.A.T. team people there now, he doesn't need me for that. With the lawyer stuff, on the other hand-"

"Of course. And now, because it's almost gone – will soon be gone completely – you're worried that Angel won't have any use for you any longer," the blonde woman nodded.

"What the hell am I gonna do, Annie? Should I take the deal that brain butcher offered, or not? I mean, I _**want **_to, but-"

"Is the price one that you're willing to pay? You don't know. Yeah, I've been there," Annie admitted, much to Gunn's surprise. Off his look she added, "A few years ago, I was involved with a fundraiser sponsored by Wolfram & Hart. Big charity ball, something supposed to bring in roughly two million dollars – but then Angel tells me it's all a con. That I'd wind up with five percent of the final take, if that. I didn't know what to do – so I thought about it, and eventually I decided five percent of two million was better than one hundred percent of nothing, and I refused to help him stop Wolfram & Hart from stealing everyone blind. Told myself that ethical principle doesn't pay the rent, or feed the starving homeless."

"So what happened?" Gunn asked curiously.

"Everything got completely screwed up, of course – all the money was stolen during the big night, and I ended up with one hundred percent of nothing anyway. It was just pure luck that Angel decided to give that five percent to me later on, and I was able to keep the shelter going after I hid the money safely," Annie said reflectively.

"So what are you sayin', Annie? That there's no point in making a bargain with the Devil, when you already work for him?" Gunn asked, with a sinking feeling in his chest.

"I don't know about that, Charles. But I think you should ask yourself this – what do you think Alonna would tell you to do, if she was still with us?"

Gunn flinched, as the blonde woman's question hit home in his mind. He had deliberately avoided thinking about that – on account of if his little sister was still around, the odds were that he'd have never gotten deeply involved with Angel in the first place. Never would have become a lawyer, either, and be faced with this agonizing decision.

"I think...Alonna wouldn't even recognize me, if someone brought her back tomorrow. Like what happened with Darla, way back when," Gunn admitted painfully. "Damn. Alonna – if she were here, she'd tell me that I've sold out, and that I'm willing to do almost anything to try to be someone I'm not!"

"You've made your decision, haven't you?" Annie asked sympathetically, looking into the black man's eyes.

"Yeah," Charles nodded, looking pained but now also determined. "First thing tomorrow morning, I'm gonna find Angel and tell him the truth – before I hand in my resignation from Wolfram & Hart."

* * *

**Headquarters of the new Watchers Council, London**

**February 13****th****, 2004**

"This is insane, Giles! That street gang should _**not**_ be hunting vampires, and we _**shouldn't **_be helping them do it!" Buffy shouted at the head of the Council. "I want you to tell them that they should lay off the whole demon hunting thing, until we get a Slayer team operating properly in L.A.! They're just going to get themselves killed!"

Giles exhaled loudly, trying to resist the urge to take off his glasses and polish them – before mentally shrugging and giving in to temptation. "I'm afraid it's not that simple, Buffy."

"Yes, it is! I'm making it that simple!" Buffy said determinedly.

"Unfortunately, it's not your decision to make, either," Giles said slowly, before seeing Buffy's face turning an interesting shade of purple. Silently cursing how he had approved Wesley's requests for supporting that particular vampire-hunting militia – or at least, that he had told the blonde Slayer about it – the head Watcher asked, "Buffy, why are you, um, so firmly against these people receiving Council funding to do what they can, i-in order to save lives?"

"Because they shouldn't _**have **_to do that anymore!" Buffy exploded. "My God, did Willow activate all those Potentials for nothing?!"

"Buffy, please. You _**do**_ recall that Los Angeles contains roughly ten million people, and spans a metropolitan area of at least ten thousand square kilometers, do you not? And yet, there are less than a dozen Slayers in that city, and that's i-including Faith. They, they can't possibly cover all that territory by themselves, you know..."

"They don't have to! We've got Angel there to help with that!" Buffy said defiantly.

"Ah yes, your, um, former boyfriend. Someone who's still running the local branch of Wolfram & Hart, and whose friends have all left him behind – because of that memory-alteration spell he allowed to be cast upon them, as part of his deal with the Senior Partners," Giles said mildly. "So forgive me if you putting Angel in the, err, positive side of the column, d-doesn't fill me with confidence about that vampire automatically doing the right thing all the time."

Buffy glared at her old mentor for that, but wisely decided not to say anything further on the subject. What with Willow and Dawn still firmly of the opinion that Angel was no longer one of the good guys, she knew that there was no point in adding fuel to that fire with Giles right now. Besides, she herself was still slightly ticked off at her ex for keeping Spike's return from Dust-ville a secret, even if she couldn't deny that Faith might have had a point with that whole 'helping the competition' thing.

"Buffy." The oldest Slayer looked up as father figure leaned in towards her, from across his desk. "Tell me what's wrong. Really. I'm, err, not incorrect in assuming that you're not this upset, b-because of Mr. Gunn's group being armed to fight the good fight, am I?"

The Summers woman sighed. "Yeah. It's just – oh, Dawn and I are still having the occasional fight about Xander. Willow's vanished again, and I can't talk to my best friend anymore. The job...uh, never mind. And it's kinda hard having a part-time boyfriend, who lives in a different country to the one I do!"

"Ah," Giles nodded. "And then there's also the fact that no one approves of your liaison with the Immortal either, yes?"

Buffy threw up her arms in frustration. "Well, yeah! I mean, I know he's done things in the past that might be considered, I dunno..."

"Criminal?"

"Well, yeah. I guess. But hey, it's not like the picture Xander painted for me in Rome, where my boyfriend's a completely evil asshole!" the Slayer said insistently.

"Not all the time, anyway," Giles replied dryly. "Tell me, Buffy – why exactly did Xander object to your dating that man?"

"What, don't tell me you don't know?"

"I, uh, no, actually, um, I-I-I'm afraid the boy stopped confiding in me about such things. Long before that, ah, meeting you two had at that café in Rome," Giles admitted somewhat sheepishly. "Looking back on it, Buffy – that, that sh-should have been my first clue that Xander had decided to end his association with the Council, as it were."

Buffy sighed noisily. "Well, Xand told me that the Immortal was bad news. That he was even worse than Angel and Spike in some respects. So _**naturally **_I told the guy that my love life was none of his business, and then he made some crack about how I was dating somebody who was going to give me a case of neurosyphilis, or necro-syphilis, or whatever the hell he actually called it – and everything kinda went completely downhill from there..."

"I see. Uh, well, Buffy, th-that might actually be a legitimate concern," Giles said musingly. "You, um, you _**are**_ aware that the Immortal entered into sexual relations with both Darla and Drusilla during the nineteenth century, aren't you? According to the chronicles I've consulted, the man has a documented history of, uh, 'sporting' with the consorts of both Angel _**and**_ Spike. Something which, come to think of it, includes you – twice. And there's no telling what sort of disease that man might pass on to others, which his immortality protects him from..."

Buffy briefly looked sick. "Oh. Geez. Well, thank God Xander didn't mention that – or I'd have gotten even madder than I did that day in Rome, and knocked his teeth out as well as calling him a useless wimp!"

* * *

**Xander's room, Hyperion Hotel**

**February 23****rd****, 2004**

Willow looked around, feeling the oddest sense of déjà vu. It had been nearly two years since she'd set foot in this hotel room, when Cordelia had been possessed and recuperating from that flesh wound; and yet it seemed like only yesterday...

Then again, maybe not. Willow Rosenberg had changed over those two years; there was no doubt about that. Her exile in South America – which was now over, thank the Goddess in her all her forms, thanks to Giles and the Council finally reaching a settlement with all the relevant parties from last year – had left the redhead much more appreciative of the little things in life, which most people took for granted.

Like opening the mailbox and not finding any hate-filled letters. Walking down the street, and not having to worry about what would happen if the glamour she was wearing suddenly stopped working. The value of friendship, and trying to help someone in need...

That was the reason Willow was here today. Not to try to wake Xander up – just about everyone in the know understood now what that would lead to, after what Ethan Rayne had tried to do last month – but to fix something that _**could**_ be fixed. His missing, gouged-out left eye.

"I dunno about this," Faith frowned, looking at Willow. "Red, you sure you know what you're doing?"

"That's what I'd like to know," the registered nurse named Melissa said, likewise frowning. "I mean, I'm no expert on magic – but I thought this sort of thing was more or less impossible?"

"No, it's not impossible. I mean, you_** can**_ do an eye transplant these days, magically or otherwise. Had myself a vision about it, during the bad old days," Cordelia shuddered briefly in loathing, before dismissing the memory. "But Willow's planning to do something different to that – right?"

"Yeah," the witch nodded, still studying Xander carefully. "I mean, Cordy, you're right about the whole transplant thing – and Melissa, you're right about how hard it is to simply magic up a fake eye for someone, just like that. All sorts of things can go wrong, due to the optic nerve's connection to the brain – and you can drive someone crazy from all the conflicting signals, y'know, with the lack of coherent vision."

"So then why take the risk?" the nurse (whom Cordelia had hired not long after moving into the hotel) demanded. "Especially with _**my**_ patient?"

{ _Possessive, much?_ } Faith raised an eyebrow at that. { _Still, I suppose that's what Cyclops Boy is to her professionally, if nothing else. _} "Huh, she might have a point there; coma and all..."

"Actually, it's _**better **_that Xander's in a coma for this," Willow argued at once. "For what I'm planning to do in order to restore his eye, we'd want him unconscious anyway. So, so, no need to administer a general anesthetic!"

"Okay, but if you're not doing a transplant, then what exactly _**are**_you going to do?" Melissa asked.

Willow took a deep breath. "Create a clone of his right eye, and rewire the nerves leading to the chiasma and the visual cortex of Xander's brain after, uh, inserting it into the empty eye socket."

"WHAT?!" Cordelia demanded hotly, before anyone else had a chance to say anything. "Willow, you didn't mention anything like that to me before! _**Why**_ didn't you mention anything like this to me before?!"

"Uh, 'cause I knew you'd instantly make with the freak-out? Kinda like you're doing right now? But don't worry; I know what I'm doing..." Willow began to say.

Cordelia instantly dragged the witch out of the room, and stared hard at her in the hotel corridor. "You know what you're doing, huh? Really, Willow? Just like you knew what you were doing when you were _**sure**_ that Buffy was stuck in some hell dimension, and then you and those other three idiots tore her soul out of Heaven – _**without**_ checking to find out where she'd actually ended up?"

{ _Ouch._ } "Okay, yeah, I screwed up there, can't deny that; even if I'm not sorry that Buffy ended up back in this world, one way or the other. And I know you have a right to be concerned about this, Cordelia," Willow said as calmly as she could. "You, uh, you kinda have a lot invested in Xander's welfare, right? After you ended up inside his head and all, I mean."

Cordelia exhaled, blowing some hairs out of her eyes. "Yes, Willow. I have a _**lot **_invested in the big goofhead, even if nearly everything that I picked up while I was in there is gone now-"

"Nearly everything?" Willow interrupted.

"Well, I can remember that conversation with his subconscious, and the trials he underwent for me. And I can remember bits and pieces of the life we would have had together...if you'd kept your lips off of him, way back when," Cordelia said, ignoring the redhead's slight flinch. "But apart from our children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren, I can't remember anything about the next seven decades anymore. Which is all for the best, actually – because feeling like you're nearly a hundred years old that way? _**Not**_ fun!"

"Yeah, I guess not," Willow agreed, privately thinking it was a shame that the Seer hadn't written any of it down before the knowledge had faded from her mind. Knowing about and preventing something like the next 9/11 would have been darn useful, in her view. "Still, getting back on topic?"

"Right. Xander," Cordelia nodded, her expression hardening. "Okay, convince me that this is the right thing to do!"

"I've done the research," Willow said firmly. "Both in England, and here. Angel granted me access to all the knowledge that was available in Wolfram & Hart's vaults, after we finally mended fences. I've read up on all the spells required, and even practiced the technique on a one-eyed dog that Kennedy found for me in Brazil. Between that and what I've learned from the Council's old archives, I can _**guarantee**_ you that no harm will come to Xander, whether the eye restoration thing works or not!"

"It. Might. Not. Work?!" Cordelia demanded angrily.

"Well, no one's ever done anything like this before, as far as I know," Willow shrugged helplessly. "At least, not on a human being. But I can do this, I _**know**_ I can! I just-"

"This is my boyfriend – sorry, my _**former**_ boyfriend that we're talking about," Cordelia interrupted again, chastising herself for the slip and feeling annoyed at the slight smile that briefly appeared on Willow's face. "Willow, if something goes wrong-"

"It won't! It won't," Willow cut her off hastily. "I mean, even at the first _**sign**_ that something's not right, I'll abort and it'll be as if nothing ever happened. Please believe me, Cordy; I don't want any harm to come to Xander, any more than you do!"

"Yeah, I believe you. Still, are you sure there's nothing more you can do to prepare for this? Y'know, so that you can guarantee me that it's gonna work?" the Vision Girl asked suspiciously.

"Yeah. I mean, no, there's nothing more I can do to prepare for it," Willow shook her head. "Everything I can possibly think of, I've already done."

"All right, fine; then let's do this. But like you said – even one _**hint**_ that this'll become yet another one of your magical screw-up's, and you _**stop**_. Straightaway. Understood?" Cordelia demanded.

"Understood," Willow nodded, and so the two women went back inside Xander's room.

Against the expectations of most people present, the entire thing actually went off according to plan. The stem cells that had been extracted from Xander's bone marrow were injected into the empty eye socket and magically programmed by Willow to form a new eye, dividing and proliferating at incredible, breath-taking speed to create the organ in question. Willow then closed her eyes and began manipulating the nerve pathways within Xander's head, very carefully. Slowly but surely, then, the new eye settled into place, and Willow's concentration was such that she never even noticed Cordelia gripping Xander's hand tightly –

But eventually, the Rosenberg woman did notice (as did everyone else) that Xander's left eye wasn't brown in color, but rather hazel instead. The exact same eye color that Cordelia saw, every time she looked into the mirror –

* * *

**Alley behind the Hyperion Hotel, Los Angeles**

**May 13****th****, 2004**

Angel ran as fast as he could in the pouring rain, heading for the pre-arranged rendezvous point. He was thinking of his son and his Seer, easily able to visualize the faces of both Connor and Cordelia, as he ran – their eyes, especially. Blue and hazel colored eyes, the eyes of the two people he loved.

It had been a busy three months or so, as far as Angel was concerned. For example, Harmony had quit and left the law firm after one too many scary encounters with Faith, and he'd had to find a new secretary. He'd killed the man named Greenway, just as that criminal was about to murder five nuns in order to jump to another dimension and escape justice. He had even needed to help Spike try to figure out what his grandchilde's true purpose was nowadays, after Lindsey had been exposed and abducted –

And last but not least, Angel had had to investigate the 'curio' that Dr. Sparrow had been interested in getting through customs – a sarcophagus containing the remains of the Old One named Illyria. Something that had eventually ended up at the good doctor's clinic, despite being delayed for longer than what would have happened had Gunn decided to accept the proffered deal.

Eventually, Angel had learned that the Wolfram & Hart scientist named Knox had used Eve (who had been discovered and captured by that point) for Illyria's host. Both because Fred had wanted nothing to do with any part of Wolfram & Hart any longer – including Knox himself – and Illyria's worshipper had convinced himself that the former liaison to the Senior Partners wouldn't be missed, locked up within that dungeon alongside the serial killer known as Matthias Pavayne.

Too bad for him that Knox Webster had been utterly wrong, at least on the second part.

The Wolf, Ram and Hart never forgot a debt, especially one owed by their no-longer-immortal creation – and so Eve and Illyria had ended up sharing the same body, the woman's soul safe from the fires of the Old One's resurrection due to the safeguards the Senior Partners had built into her. And in an ironic twist, the first thing Illyria had done after awakening was kill Knox, because she could easily feel the overwhelming anger Eve had had for him. Likewise, sharing the body somehow caused Illyria to develop 'feelings' for Lindsey as well, and led to her eventually rescuing him from that Wolfram & Hart prison dimension...

Not that Angel had cared much about that, at the time; he'd been too upset that Cordelia had refused to budge on the matter of 'them.' The undead CEO suspected the Seer had rejected his overtures of love because he hadn't been able to leave the evil law firm, at least not without Connor going back to what he'd been. He'd hoped that was the case, anyway; and at the very least, Angel had been pretty sure Cordy hadn't gotten involved with someone else...

Xander Harris vegetating in his coma hadn't been a viable consideration, in his mind.

But then the time had come for Connor to kill Sahjhan, and later that night – the unexpected, brief appearance of Darla had given Angel a vision concerning the Circle of the Black Thorn. Subsequent events hadn't taken place exactly how that African witch doctor had foreseen they would happen, but they were close enough – and so earlier this evening, Angel, Spike, Gunn (who had been talked into helping out), Eve/Illyria and Lindsey had killed seven-ninths of the Black Thorn.

It _**would**_ have been a clean sweep of the entire Circle had Angel decided to bring Faith on board, but he hadn't – on account he didn't think the Council would have appreciated their number two Slayer getting killed as part of his private war, and Wesley would have made his displeasure clear upon losing one of his best assets. In no uncertain terms.

Unfortunately, this attack on their earthly instruments had given the Senior Partners the excuse they needed to send a demon army to take care of Angel and his people, once and for all –

When he got to the chain-link fence at the end of the alley, Angel looked around for the others, but failed to see anyone. The sky thundered above him, as the heavy rain continued to pour down.

"Boo," a British voice said sarcastically, as Spike walked out from the shadows.

Angel took in his grandchilde's battle-hardened appearance. "Anyone else?"

"Not so far. You feel the heat?" William the Bloody asked, looking around.

Angel nodded. "It's coming."

Spike seemed happy, in his own way. "Finally got ourselves a decent brawl."

Just then Gunn came running down the alley toward them, carrying his homemade battle-axe. "Damn! How did I know the Fang Boys would pull through?" His steps became progressively less sure, though. "You're lucky we're on the same side, dogs, 'cause I was on fire tonight. My game was tight..."

The human almost collapsed from his injuries, but Angel and Spike caught him and helped him to a box on which he could sit down. Spike started looking at Gunn's wounds, frowning. "You're supposed to wear the red stuff on the inside, Charlie boy."

Gunn looked down at all the blood, but only said, "Any word on the others?"

Just then, Illyria jumped down from the chain-link fence to stand behind Angel. "Lindsey is dead. Cyvus Vail killed him, before I could get there...I slaughtered the vile coward for his actions afterwards. His death screams were quite pleasing."

The three men expressed their sympathy, as the blue-haired Old One morphed into her human aspect. Eve said, "Lindsey's death is hurting both me and Illyria like you wouldn't believe. And I want to kill a lot more of them, before I join the man I love on the other side!"

Everyone began to hear a crowd clamoring not far away. Spike said, as the noise began to draw closer, "Well, I guess wishes just happen to be horses today..."

Angel silently looked at the approaching army. There were hundreds, if not thousands, of demons of all sorts, shapes and sizes. Looking upwards in the pouring rain, the original vampire with a soul saw a huge, winged dragon fly angrily towards them.

Gunn seemed determined not to just lie down and die, especially here of all places. "Okay. You guys take the thirty thousand on the left..."

Eve transformed back into Illyria, as the Old One examined the bleeding for a moment. "You're fading. You'll last ten minutes at best."

"Then let's make 'em memorable," Gunn said, as he got up.

Angel stepped forward and the others loyally followed. They stared at the horde of demons approaching them in the alley.

Spike asked of no one in particular, "In terms of a plan?"

"We fight," Angel said brusquely.

"Bit more specific," the other ensouled vamp drawled.

Angel stepped forward. "Well, personally, I kind of want to slay the dragon." The demon horde began to attack. "Everyone, stick close together..."

He began to swing his sword, just as the enemy forces got right in Angel's face. So all things considered, it was very lucky for him and the others that Faith and her fellow Slayers and the Council forces showed up, approximately five seconds later.

"God damn it!" Faith shouted, incensed at the cluster-fuck that had erupted. She noticed the dragon setting fire to the hotel as flames erupted out of its mouth, and so the Slayer yelled, "Rona, get everyone out of the Hyperion! The rest of you, with me!"

"What the-?" Angel muttered, briefly seeing Eve/Illyria go down under a horde of roughly fifty demons, but not paying much attention to that. In between ducking and weaving against the enemy and killing any of them that he could, the vampire's gaze could not help going towards Cordelia – who was now floating high in the sky, far above their heads.

And without warning, erupted in a blaze of blue-white light, her eyes solid white, the brunette woman glaring down at the demon army which had been attacking everyone...

Suddenly, _**everything**_ went white. Supernova white. Looking into an arc-light white. Arctic ice-field white.

When the spots and sparkles began clearing from his eyes, Angel saw the entire demon army turning black and smolder-y, before starting to crumble into ashes and dust.

All of them.

Even the dragon fell from the sky, dead as a doornail, before crashing into the burning hotel and demolishing it once and for all.

"Sodding hell," Spike said woozily, from not far away. "Now I've seen everything..."

Not quite, as William the Bloody abruptly went sailing away thanks to a lightning bolt that came down from the skies, and crashed directly into Angel.

The Shanshu prophecy was fulfilled, as Angelus vanished howling into non-existence and Angel's human physiology was restored.

"I've got a live one!" the Slayer named Vi called out, as she came across the unconscious form of Gunn. Not far away, Spike got up and made his way back to his (former) grandsire, shaking his head vigorously in order to try to focus.

"Shit – Vi, get Gunn outta here, and to a hospital! Shannon, help her!" Faith commanded. She then came up to Angel and said, "Hey, you okay?"

"I'm alive," Angel said in amazement, wondering if he was dreaming right now.

"So, if I turn you, will that make me your dad, then?" Spike smirked facetiously. He then blinked, as Faith suddenly punched Angel in the face and the man stumbled back, yelping in pain. William then said, "Not that I'm objecting, luv, but why?"

"Take a good look at my home for the last five months, pal!" Faith gestured angrily at the burning hotel. She then turned to Angel and said, "What? I know you owned the place, but you couldn't have taken a few seconds to give us a heads-up to vacate the premises, earlier today?"

"Aggh! My dose," Angel gurgled, ignoring the question. "I t'ink it's bwoken!"

"Well, in the big poof's defense – not like we knew it was gonna go down exactly like this," Spike shrugged, even though he was also smirking at Angel's discomfort.

"Whud he saib," Angel choked out.

"Then I got a newsflash for ya! If any of my girls inside that hotel got killed – or even worse, if _**Xander**_ didn't make it out there alive – Cordelia's gonna do a_** lot **_worse to you than I did," Faith told him harshly. "Now take my advice and scram, you _**and**_ your sidekick here."

"Oi! Not a sidekick, Slayer!" Spike snarled, looking greatly offended.

Faith ignored that. "Seriously, both of ya, get going. 'Cause Queen C is probably gonna be out for blood, and if she is, I'm not gonna be able to stop her. Not really sure right now that I want to, either!"

"C'mon, mate," Spike grabbed Angel's arm, the one whose hand wasn't trying to stem the flow of blood from his nose, and dragged the ex-vampire away. "Best we follow Charlie and his Florence Nightingale to that hospital, 'n check you out..." He looked around and asked, "Hang on, what about Eve? Illyria? Whatever –"

"She didn't make it," Shannon told him in passing, as the Slayer rushed towards Gunn and Vi as per Faith's orders.

"God damn it," Faith cursed again as the two men left, looking around at all the bodies before joining Wes and the rest of her people in getting the wounded to medical care.

* * *

**Headquarters of the new Angel Investigations agency, Osgood Boulevard**

**June 18****th****, 2004**

Not all that far away in the private hospital where Cordelia had been set up last year by Angel, Ethan Rayne appeared in a burst of white light – confused, disoriented and with less than a week to live.

By contrast, Whistler appeared here without any fanfare. He then looked down at his watch as he thought of the Chaos mage in question, before looking up again. { _Okay. British guy has finally shown up, already. Here's hoping he doesn't end up yet another pain in my butt... _}

The Messenger for the Powers exhaled wearily, thinking over recent events. He had copped a lot of flak from his superiors Up There for what had happened last month; but in his defense, Whistler had pointed out that Angel shouldn't have chosen to do something so suicidally _**stupid!**_ That entire thing with Darla had been set up for Rat Boy to reconcile with the Vision Girl and his former pals, for everyone to start working together again and accomplish some good – _**not **_for him to go on a kamikaze mission, and drag nearly everyone down with him!

{ _Well, I guess that's what I get for simply following orders from the Powers. Harris, you owe me __**big time**__ for reacquainting them with human emotion, way back when!_ } Whistler thought grouchily. He knew that if it hadn't been for his subtle intervention, the comatose man would never have made it out of Blood Breath's hotel alive that night; likewise the Messenger knew that the Senior Partners, in one last bit of spite before being done with Angel forever, had decided to make him useless – and turn him human back then.

{ _What a way to fulfill that prophecy. And I betcha the guy still thinks it was the friggin' Powers who did it,_ } Whistler thought cynically. { _I oughta send another memo about them setting up a decent P.R. department down here..._ }

In any case, the battle had been reported on the news as a horrific gang war, with a lot of dead and burned bodies. And not that he cared much – but Whistler knew that, along with the big blackout before Jasmine's birth, that had officially caused L.A. to lose all of its appeal as a vacation spot...

{ _Never mind. Focus. You got a job to do._ }

"Okay, kid. Hope you've enjoyed your little nap, 'cause now your sleepy time's over," Whistler told the comatose Xander Harris, before placing a hand on the guy's forehead – in order to make Harris relive that dream conversation with his subconscious from months ago. The one with the representations of Shaman Bond, Jeeves and Dawn, and where Xander had been told, "Ethan Rayne. The Key. Time. That's all the hints you get!"

Whistler vanished, and – finally – Xander woke up from his coma.

TBC...


	10. Reunion, Part One

See Part One for disclaimer and details. Hello all, and welcome to the latest instalment of the story. Big thanks as always to everyone who's been reading and/or reviewing the fic, and telling us what they think of it. Okay, this chapter is the beginning of a two-parter that will deal with everything that has come to pass so far, as we slowly begin to set up for the finale. So we hope you enjoy...

* * *

**Part Ten: Reunion, Part One**

**Angel Investigations, Los Angeles**

**June 18****th****, 2004**

Pain.

The first thing Xander Harris noticed was the pain from a headache that slowly dissipated. The second thing the young man noticed was that he was awake, and therefore his time in the coma was over.

{ _Did it work? Is Cordelia alive?_ } was the first coherent thought that went through his semi-functioning brain.

Things began to get a little less fuzzy, and Harris finally managed to focus. Groaning and feeling a little stiff (but luckily not suffering from complete muscular atrophy, thanks to a special kind of magic) Xander yanked out the wires that had been implanted six months ago, as he slowly heaved his legs up and placed his feet on the floor. { _Okay, first things first... _}

Then he blinked his eyes. As in, plural. Not the one remaining eye he'd had, upon entering Dreamland. { _Whoa! How the hell did that happen?!_ }

At that moment, the duty nurse came into the room. Her mouth dropped open, and her lower jaw nearly hit the floor before Melissa hit the emergency button on her belt to page her boss. She then said to Xander, "Oh my God! You're awake!"

"Yeah, guess so. What's the date, how long have I been out of it?" Xander asked her croakily.

"It's been nearly six months, Xander," the young woman told him, rushing over to his side.

At the casual use of his first name, Harris blinked and looked up at her. "Ah, do I know you from somewhere?"

The woman smiled, showing her dimples. "Sort of. I'm Melissa. I've been your personal nurse, from the first day I was hired to look after you."

"Really?" Xander asked.

"Yep, sponge baths and all," she said with a grin.

"Sponge baths..." Harris snorted, briefly reminded of Anya – before he put away such thoughts. Because she was gone; had been for over a year, now, if the nurse was right about how long he'd been in a coma. So after saying a final farewell to her in his thoughts, Xander focused and asked Melissa, "Huh. Did you at least treat me to dinner first?"

"Of course, what kind of girl do you take me for?" the nurse replied, looking amused.

"Actually, we took turns giving you the sponge baths."

Nurse and patient looked over to the door to see a smiling Cordelia Chase. "Cordy!" Xander exclaimed, struggling to stand up at once. "You're okay!"

"Thanks to you, yeah!" she told him, as the brunette came over and gave Harris a big hug that he returned whole-heartedly. "I can't tell you how good it is to finally see you awake, you big dweeb!"

"Same here, Queen C," Xander said, as Melissa put her arm out to steady him – before the nurse firmly pushed Harris down to sit on the bed again. He added, "So, what's the what? I mean, did I miss out on much over the last six months?"

"You could say that," Cordelia said, losing her grin for the moment.

* * *

**UCLA student bookstore, Los Angeles**

**A short while later**

"No...no...no..." Dawn Summers said, as she looked through the books for the right edition. "I need...the sixth!" she said triumphantly, as the young woman pulled the last book off the shelf.

It was somewhat odd how, after graduating high school in England, the eighteen-year-old girl was already preparing for her freshman year of college here in L.A. after summer break. Still, maybe it wasn't all that odd; Dawn was determined to maintain a good GPA, thanks in part to the work ethic her teachers at that exclusive London school had managed to drill into her. Moments later, she was getting her book purchase rung up.

The cashier said, "Uh, that'll be a hundred and forty-six dollars. Big ouchie on the old budget, huh?"

"It's okay," Dawn told him with a shrug. "Not like I'm paying for it."

"At least not for a few years, sure," the guy mused, processing the purchase. "Good old student loans..."

"Yep, that's right," Dawn replied. After all – she couldn't really tell this guy that the Council was footing the bill for all this, now, could she? And considering how much some demonology books cost, this was nothing in comparison.

The Summers woman was halfway towards her car when she got a text message on her cell phone. Dawn took the phone off its clip, looked at it casually and then froze. "Holy shit!"

Because the code phrase on the screen from Andrew (who was now working for Wesley as a tech-support guy, in charge of all the equipment David Nabbit had given to him and Cordelia) was something that, by now, Dawn had almost given up hope of ever seeing.

'Captain Kirk has boldly returned from where no man has gone before.'

Dawn must have set a land speed record getting to her car, and onto the infamous freeways of L.A.

* * *

**Angel Investigations, Los Angeles**

**The same time**

"Hey, where the hell are we?"

"Home," Cordelia told Harris simply, as the Chase woman pushed his wheelchair from behind. "This _**was**_ going to be the new Paradise Hills Hotel...but then stuff happened, and the owners decided to just cut their losses. Giles sent me and Wesley some Council funds to buy it, and help finish it off."

"Huh," Harris said simply, as he looked around at the lavish setup. It wasn't the Hyperion Hotel, to Cordelia's everlasting regret; but this place was almost as good. "Looks nice."

"Hate to admit it, but in some ways it's actually better than Angel's old hotel – well, before it got burned down," Cordelia said honestly, as she hit a button on the door and it opened to let her push the wheelchair in.

"Burned down?" Xander asked inquisitively. "You mean, arson?"

"Try fire-breathing dragon, which also crashed down on top of it!"

"Huh." Harris honestly didn't know how to respond to that. But a few moments later, they exited the elevator and Xander took in the large lobby, looking at all the polished woodwork and glass panels. He asked his companion, "You actually live here?"

"And work," Cordelia told him. She pointed to an elegant sign behind what had once been the check-in counter. It had her old drawing of an angel, with the words 'Angel Investigations' under it.

Xander just raised an eyebrow. "You still work for Dead Boy, then?"

"Big 'NO!' there!" Cordelia said, in a tone that surprised Xander.

"Cor?" he asked curiously.

"After you forced the Powers to wake me up, a lot of things were found out. Stuff that made everyone in the old gang leave their jobs at Wolfram & Hart," Cordelia said, as she pushed Xander over to a large couch. She then sat down so she could be at eye-level with him.

Xander asked for details, and Cordelia told him that Wes had been the first to desert the sinking ship. And that Fred, Lorne and Gunn hadn't taken long in following him, either. "Angel was the only one to stay...well, Spike, too," Cordy said.

"They did?" Xander asked, interested; especially after what that witch doctor had mentioned to him back in Africa.

"Angel had to, for Connor's sake. I guess Spike had nowhere else to go, or maybe he just liked annoying Angel too much. But even so, they've helped us make life a little more difficult for the Senior Partners." She suddenly gave him a classic megawatt Cordelia Chase smile, which made the guy remember a time when he had seen that smile every day during high school.

Cordy took careful note of Xander's instinctive response to her charms, thinking gleefully to herself, { _Oh yeah, I've still got it! It's only a matter of time before we get back together, I'm sure..._ }

"Us?" Harris asked, interrupting her thought processes.

"Huh?" Cordy asked in confusion. { _Oh, God, did I just say that out loud?!_ }

Xander tilted his head to the sign. "Us?" he repeated himself.

"Oh!" Cordelia said, relieved as she finally understood his question. "Yeah, Wesley and Andrew and me. Gunn went back to his old gang after deciding to quit Wolfram & Hart, and Fred eventually decided to give the university thing another try. She got an excellent offer from the theoretical physics department at Caltech, actually, and we don't see her much anymore. Ditto, Lorne – he headed off to Las Vegas again, less than a week after he learned about the memory-alteration spell. But Angel's still around, I took him in after he ended up human; well, on the strict understanding that he doesn't try to give me, or anyone else, orders any longer. And sure, him and Wes didn't get along at first..."

In response to Xander's "Why?", Cordelia explained, briefly, and Harris snorted derisively. Then he said, "Guess that's not exactly surprising, then. Still, Angel Investigations?"

"I kept the name, since the agency developed a lot of street cred during those first four years. I thought to myself, why let that go to waste? Sure, initially most of our clients thought Angel was in charge – but nowadays, not anymore. Huh, never would have guessed two years ago that I'd go from secretary and seer to head honcho of the outfit!" Cordelia smiled.

"You're the Big Boss around here?" Xander asked, a little startled.

"Hey, no need to sound so surprised!" the brunette said, with a light smack on his arm. "And yeah, half-demon with my own superpowers now, so _**I'm**_ the one who gives the orders...and if you're going to work for me, then you better get that through your head right now, Harris!"

"Well, I didn't mean..." Xander started to say, before his brain caught up with his mouth. "Whoa – wait a minute, back up. Me work for you?"

"That's the plan!" Cordelia told him firmly, even if she was suddenly worried that her ex-boyfriend would now tell her to go to hell. They had a lot of history together – and the sad fact was that most of it wasn't good, unfortunately. Even if he had sacrificed six months of his life for her, and she wanted him to stay, that was no guarantee that Harris would feel the same way –

"Heck, you've already been our unofficial mascot for ages!" the Seer added, trying out her megawatt Pepsodent commercial smile again.

"Cordy, I am in no way anyone's mascot!" Xander said, unable to help smiling back at her. Cordelia's Smiley Face was even better at pushing his buttons than Willow's Resolve Face, back during elementary school; and here and now, it was also an unalloyed pleasure to enjoy seeing.

"Oh, come on! You made such a cute mascot," Cordelia said with a laugh, happy that Harris hadn't categorically told her to take the job offer and shove it up where the sun didn't shine. "Even if you tended to drool a little too much..."

Xander abruptly lost the smile, making Cordelia worry that maybe she'd gone too far. But he just said, "What were you thinking that I'd do around here, if I decided to stay?"

"What? You've got somewhere else you'd rather be?" Cordelia demanded.

"Maybe," Harris replied noncommittally, much to her dismay. "Look, don't get me wrong – I am kinda curious to find out what you've been planning for me, while I was sleeping. But I'm _**done**_ taking orders from powerful women who treat me like I'm fragile as glass, or more often like I'm semi-retarded. Besides, you don't owe me a damn thing-"

"How can you say that?!" Cordelia demanded, cutting him off at once. "I'd be _**dead**_ right now, if it wasn't for you!"

"Well, there is that, yeah. But..." Harris trailed off, scratching the back of his neck.

"What?" Cordy demanded, after he was silent for too long.

"Well, that witch doctor who told me you were gonna die, he showed me a lot of different possible futures. And there's one in particular that I'll never forget – if we'd never kissed in Buffy's basement that day? You'd have had a long and happy life and died filthy rich, if you hadn't ever gotten involved with me that way."

{ _Yeah, but Jesse and Joyce would never have been born. And you're okay with that?_ } Cordelia briefly paled at thinking such thoughts, but Xander seemed to just brush her reaction aside.

"Anyway, getting back to what you were saying before. What exactly were you planning for me to do around here? To answer the phones or something? Sorry, but I don't do that sort of crap," Harris told her in no uncertain terms.

"No, nothing like that! Well, obviously, you'd be on light duty for a while, 'til you're one hundred percent again," Cordelia said almost pleadingly. She decided not to tell him that, nowadays, it was part of Angel's job to answer the phones; Harris would probably fall out of the wheelchair, laughing his ass off over the ex-vampire doing such monotonous and low-level work. She then added, "But after that, I thought you might want to help Wesley with the Slayer contingent around here. Unlike Buffy, I do value field experience!"

"Slayer contingent?!" Xander asked, shocked. He started looking around, more than half-expecting the old Scooby Gang to show up and start chastising him for his actions six months ago. "You have Slayers here...this is Council territory as well?"

"They're a silent overseas partner, more or less," Cordelia admitted. "We're kind of like a Slayer safehouse, with Wesley in charge of that part of our operations; it was part of the deal with Giles for coming up with the cash to finish off the building's construction. We've got the facilities for them here – all of it state of the art, and there's plenty of room for everyone. And I know for a fact that Wes needs someone competent to help with the whole Research Boy thing!"

"I thought you said Andrew was working here, though?"

"Tech geek," Cordelia said succinctly. "That's all he's good for, well – apart from his cooking skills, of course. Oh, wait, did I mention Spike comes here semi-regularly as well? After him and Andrew started turning the girls around here into gambling addicts with their kitten poker games, I told them to knock it off and not go anywhere near the Slayers again, or else!"

"How many of the Chosen crowd hangs out here?" Xander wanted to know, chuckling briefly despite himself.

"Roughly fifty," Cordelia told him. "And nowadays, there's around 750 of the original 1800 new Slayers that have joined up with the new Council."

"That many?" Xander asked in amazement, recalling all the problems associated with Willow activating the non-Sunnydale Potentials without their informed consent. "Huh. And they actually listen when Wes lays down the law to them? No offense, but I've noticed how Slayers these days..." He reconsidered. "Well, during the latter half of 2003 anyway. Major problem seeing us ordinary humans, as any kind of authority figure."

Cordelia stared at him, somewhat surprised at his biting tone. "Yeah, but the ones around here, they listen if Wes and I have something to say. Trust me; that lesson was learned the hard way, after we destroyed a black market operation some Wainakay demons had set up. Because those creeps were dealing in Slayer blood and body parts..."

Upon seeing Xander's grimace, the Seer decided to make a little joke to lighten up the atmosphere. "And you know, with that hungry and horny thing all the Slayers develop after a fight...you could end up a very busy guy around here!"

Xander immediately shot her a very annoyed look. It instantly reminded Cordelia of the Harris subconscious, some of the looks Soldier Xander had sent her within that black mindscape. "Come on, I was just kidding! Most have their own boyfriends or girlfriends," she admitted.

"Whatever. Don't do that again," Xander told her icily.

"Well, I _**do**_ recall a time when you wouldn't have minded becoming the love slave of a Slayer or two. Are you saying you don't?"

Xander shrugged, calming down. "No; I'm saying that I'm not stupid, Cordelia. Not like I was in high school, anyway. Took me long enough to get it, but nowadays I know that I'll never get anywhere with a Slayer...that's one headache that I definitely don't need."

"Oooh. Good to know," Cordy said with a naughty wink.

{ _Is she flirting with me?_ } Harris wondered uneasily. { _Huh. Well. I suppose I shouldn't actually be surprised – Cordelia's half-demon now, so obviously my track record with that type is still intact..._ }

"XANDER!"

Cordelia laughed again and stepped aside as Dawn tore into the lobby and jumped onto her friend and former crush, nearly tipping over his chair. "Xander! Xander! I knew it, I knew it! Oh, I just knew you'd wake up eventually! God, but I've got so much to tell you about everything!"

* * *

**Private nightclub, Rome**

**The same time**

"What's wrong, tesoro?"

Buffy looked up from staring at her drink, as her boyfriend called her 'my love' in Italian. "I'm sorry, guess I'm being a real mondo drag tonight," she told the Immortal. "It's just, I'm feeling kinda – rattled."

"It has to do with your carpenter friend, does it not?" the dark-haired man in the never-wrinkled suit asked, as he moved closer to her. "I do not understand. You just wish to make sure your friend wakes up from his coma, si?"

"Exactly!" Buffy said heatedly. "I mean, geez – I know that Xander and I didn't part under the best of circumstances, but..."

"Fear not. It will all be alright in the end, tesoro," the Immortal told her calmly. "In my experience, these things have a way of eventually working themselves out."

Buffy shrugged, her attention returning to her drink. She wished she could she could share her boyfriend's confidence, but she didn't. Ever since her sister had graduated high school and gone back to California, the alpha Slayer had come to realize just how alone she truly was nowadays.

Oh, sure, she didn't lack for company – her job saw to that, as the head of European operations Buffy had had to mingle with Slayers and Watchers alike, and after moving to Rome, she had become part of the high society scene as well. But –

But there was no central group of friends to support her, and for her to simply be Buffy Anne Summers, instead of the oldest Slayer. Tara and Anya were both dead now; Giles was based in England; Willow was constantly travelling around the continent; Xander was in a freaking coma, and Dawn wasn't going out of her way to maintain contact. Faith...okay, with their history, she didn't really count, but the second oldest Slayer was still someone Buffy felt she had totally lost contact with –

Dagnabit. Even Andrew, annoying adjunct to the Scooby Gang that he'd once been, wasn't around any longer!

{ _Scooby Gang? Huh. I haven't thought of Xander's old nickname for the group for a long time now,_ } Buffy mused to herself unhappily. { _Damn it, may as well face it – I miss him. I miss the way things used to be between us. I __**wish**__ I could get the chance to make things right... _}

Someone Up There must have been listening, because the next moment, her cell phone rang. Buffy picked up and said, "Hello? Andrew? Hey, I was just thinking about you. Uh, sorta. What's up?"

A few seconds later, the Slayer looked amazed at the news Wells had imparted to her, and muttered a quick and apologetic goodbye to her significant other – before heading back to the apartment residence she now called home, to start packing some of her stuff. There were things that she and Giles and Willow had scheduled that couldn't be put off, Council business in London, but once that was over with – Buffy had decided she was going home to the good ol' U.S. of A, now that Xander had woken up.

In her view, it was long past time to fix the tattered mess that used to be their friendship.

The Immortal just sighed in disgust once he was alone, and cursing Americans in general, wondered what new avenues he could pursue to learn all the secrets that the enigmatic Buffy Summers possessed.

* * *

**Dawn's room, Angel Investigations**

**Later that day**

"You got drunk at a frat party, and had _**sex **_with some guy who was still in high school?!"

Xander's voice echoed angrily throughout her unofficial room here at the hotel, so Dawn said defensively, "Well, it's not like I knew how old Tim was at the time! And it was a college party, y'know; everyone there was drinking and having fun. Well, before the demon gatecrashers showed up..."

Dawn's story reminded Xander of a certain incident back in his junior year of high school, where Cordy and Buffy had almost been sacrificed to the demon known as Machida and he'd suffered one of the worst humiliations of his life. Not to mention another incident involving ghosts, Buffy and Riley, during the Slayer's freshman year of college.

{ _Yeah, guess it must be a Summers family tradition or something. Wonder if it's genetic, and Joyce ever got up to anything like that? Buffy __**did **__mention something once about a college party, where her mom first met her dad..._ }

"So you helped kill the bad guys after getting laid, huh? Okay, what did your big sister have to say about that?" Harris demanded, as he pulled himself together and focused on his teenage companion again.

"Buffy was kinda angry with me about it, especially after she found out it was too late for her to give me the Talk – because Anya had already done that, like, ages ago," Dawn admitted, causing Xander to recall that old conversation within Angel's hotel. She then added, "And just between us, I guess I could've handled that videoconference call a bit better, because at the time? I was still kinda horny from everything Tim had done to me, the previous night..."

"Too much information!" Xander said firmly, abruptly wishing he was anywhere but here.

"God, you're acting just like Giles when he found out that I wasn't a virgin anymore," Dawn looked annoyed. "Come on, Xander, look at me! I mean, _**really**_ look at me. I'm eighteen years old, and I'm a legal adult able to make my own decisions. I'm not that eleven-year-old kid you and Cordelia used to babysit anymore! I mean, when you were my age, you were having sex all the time-"

"That's different," Xander interrupted firmly.

"Why, 'cause you're a guy?" Dawn asked scornfully.

"No – because after high school, I was in a serious relationship with Anya. The woman that I started contemplating spending the rest of my life with! With this Tim person you met at that frat party, did you feel the same way?" Harris asked forcefully.

Dawn scowled at him; she _**hated**_ how Xander was making her feel like a schoolgirl who had been caught smoking in the bathroom between classes, or something. { _Urrrgh! Sure, bring that up! _}

Luckily for her, Vi came into the room at that moment. "Hey, um, Dawn? Have you seen Shannon anywhere around? Wesley was looking for her."

Dawn snorted, "Oh, please, tonight of all nights? She and Rona took off ages ago; I mean, I'm sure you remember their conversation about that new movie starring Ryan Gosling!"

"Oh. Okay. Hey, you saw that doctor who came around earlier, right Xander?" Vi asked the former carpenter, deciding to change the topic. She found it kinda weird that her old Sunnydale acquaintance was now awake, after all these months of being in a coma, but she was nonetheless glad that Harris was now back to normal. "What did he say, anyway?"

"The doc said I'm lucky how most of my muscles are still okay, and this whole Professor X look is just temporary – only for a few days or so," Xander replied. "I'll be fine, soon enough."

"Okay, good. Well, I-I gotta get going. I'll see you two later!" Vi gave them a quick wave before scooting out the door, wanting to fill Wesley in on the Slayer situation.

"So. Are you gonna tell me why you didn't confide in me, after you found out the truth about Cordelia?" Dawn abruptly asked Xander, who turned to face her in surprise. "That she was in a coma, I mean? Because after I had a chance to think about it, I got kinda annoyed with you about that. That you didn't trust me enough to help you wake her up!"

"It wasn't about not trusting you, Dawn – please, don't think that," Xander shook his head. "Truth is, I didn't say anything because it would have put you in an impossible situation between me and Buffy, not to mention everyone else. Besides, you had to focus on school in order to get your diploma. Saving Cordelia's life was a job for someone expendable – namely, me."

"Hey! You _**aren't **_expendable!" Dawn shouted fiercely at him.

"Yeah, maybe – but at the time, I sure as hell felt like it," Xander told her with far too much honesty. "Look, Dawn, what happened back then doesn't really matter anymore as far as I'm concerned, all right? It's done, it's over, and I want to put it all behind me and just move on. So no more secrets between us, okay? Like, right now, I just want to get started on my physical therapy as soon as possible. So, wanna take a walk with me to the room Cordy set up for that earlier today? I could do with some Dawn Summers level of encouragement on this."

Dawn unleashed a Cordelia-esque megawatt smile, one she'd no doubt developed thanks to her former role model's demonstrations lately. "It'd be my pleasure."

Later on in the therapy room, after a very satisfactory workout, Xander gave the wheels of the chair a firm spin as he headed for the door. Dawn and Melissa had left barely a few moments previously, and now the young man wanted nothing more than to have a quick bath and change of clothes. { _Can't wait to get out of this wheelchair, I swear...it's annoying as hell!_ }

But then Harris went still, as the chair rolled to a stop. "Well, well, well. Look who's here."

Angel walked silently into the room. His expression was unreadable, as he looked at Xander; and at that hazel-colored eye that did notbelong on any face except Cordelia's. Then the former vampire said emotionlessly, "So. You're finally awake."

"And you're finally human now," Xander replied, looking his former rival up and down. "I suppose congratulations are in order?"

Angel kept his face expressionless, even if on the inside he was seething with barely-restrained anger. The problem was that, even after becoming human, despite all of his efforts to convince Cordelia for them to enter into a romantic relationship – he had failed. She had constantly rejected him. Gently, granted, but the new boss of Angel Investigations had still said 'no' every time he'd brought up the subject.

And over the past month or so, the real reason why had penetrated into his skull, so right now Angel couldn't help blaming Harris for everything. { _What the hell does Cordelia even __**see**__ in you? _}

"I wouldn't expect you to congratulate me on anything, let alone that. And I can't help asking myself, why the hell did Cordy keep you around all these months? Because we both know you of all people don't deserve her," Angel told the competition stonily.

"And you do? The guy who let all of his friends' minds get violated that way, just because _**you**_ decided it was necessary?" Xander asked, noting Angel's reaction to his words. "And you wanna play that game, Live Boy, well – do I have to remind ya that Cordelia would've died, if I'd left her to _**your**_ care? Looks to me that you're conveniently forgetting that. Exactly the same way you're conveniently ignoring all the bodies you've left behind you, during your two hundred-plus years as a vampire. That sound to you like the kind of guy who _**deserves **_Cordelia?"

Infuriated, Angel glared openly at his old rival. { _Don't push me, Harris! If you weren't in that wheelchair right now, I'd..._ }

At that moment, Spike sauntered into the therapy room. "Hullo, Droopy Boy. Been a while, innit? All happy to be out of Dreamland, then?"

Xander stared at him in annoyance. "In reverse order: yeah, Spike. It hasn't been long enough, and hello to you, too. Cordy mentioned that you were around; just my luck how that stupid amulet didn't do a good enough job of keeping you safely locked up for the rest of eternity."

"Now, now," William the Bloody smirked, looking unfazed. "Sticks 'n stones, and all that."

"Oh, trust me, Bleach Boy; words _**can **_hurt you. Remember all those jokes and insults, after the Initiative jammed that electronic leash inside your skull? In case you've forgotten, I drove you to the point of trying to commit suicide back then," Xander said, which quickly made Spike's smirk vanish. "But then the Powers didn't want that, did they? They knew you'd be necessary, for when Glory showed up and we needed to leave town..."

"What was it like?" Angel asked, curiosity winning over anger for the moment. "Meeting with the Powers, I mean. Because I remember what it was like going up against the Conduit, but the actual Powers themselves must have been a whole new ball game..."

Silently, Xander contemplated how to best answer the question. It was very hard to do so; because it was an encounter that had been literally out of this world.

In order to arrive within the Powers' realm, his mortal shell had been left behind in the Conduit's chamber; only Xander's soul had been permitted to make the journey to the highest dimension imaginable, before eventually returning. And Harris knew it was fortunate for him that the PTBs had become completely unused to dealing directly with raw human emotions, or else he might never have achieved his goal.

Things like pain, anger and fierce determination had been forgotten by those super-people long ago, the peace and tranquility of their plane had left them completely out of touch with the lower beings like him. Everything Xander was, it had been like a wild and destructive hurricane that had appeared out of nowhere in a sunny tropical paradise. And with the element of surprise on his side, Harris had succeeded in doing something no one that knew him would have thought possible he could achieve.

"I can't describe it properly, not with words," Xander finally replied to Angel's question. "Bottom line, though, I ended up having to argue with a bunch of empowered assholes who were so focused on their 'big picture' that they didn't care who had to be sacrificed – in order to make sure the planet's still here, a few centuries from now."

"But, but-" Angel started to protest, unable to believe that about the higher beings he had served for so long.

"Why are you here?" Xander interrupted, before glancing over at Spike. "Both of you. 'Cause I'm finding it pretty hard to believe it's just for saying hello to an old friend, and believe me – I'm using_** that**_ word very loosely here."

"Meself, it's just 'cuz I was bored. But as for the Magnificent Poof, reckon he was hoping to intimidate you into backing off from the Cheerleader," Spike said helpfully.

"Shut up, Spike!" Angel automatically growled at him.

"Oh, really? Hmm. You jealous, Angie? Why? It can't _**possibly**_ be due to thinking that Cordelia might actually prefer me to you, could it?" Xander asked, with a perfectly straight face. "It can't also be the fact that you'd have never even gotten involved with her after high school, if that Skip guy hadn't interfered in our lives?"

"Yeah, I heard that theory. Didn't buy it then, still don't buy it now," Angel retorted.

"Of course. Because you can't ever be wrong about something, can you?" Xander asked in a rhetorical tone of voice. "Huh. As I recall, you once told Buffy that she deserved better than the freak show that was you two's relationship – just before you broke her heart in a sewer, or some place like that. I'm guessing you don't think that was a mistake, either?"

"Gotta admit, Peaches, the whelp does 'ave a point fer once. Way I heard, took Buffy ages to get over that," Spike nodded, ignoring Angel's infuriated look. Then he looked ill. "Not ta mention, you left her all vulnerable for Captain Cardboard to swoop in 'n make his play fer her..."

"Buffy? Vulnerable?" Xander laughed, ignoring the reference to Riley. "C'mon, Spike; she's one of the strongest women we know. I mean, despite personal feelings Slay-gal was still able to send Angel here to Hell that day, remember?"

Cursing silently, Angel turned around and left the room after the obligatory staring contest was over. Spike followed him. The former class clown watched them leave, and then started chuckling. There was little humor in that laughter, though –

Cordelia wandered into the therapy room, looking intrigued. "What happened in here? I just saw Angel and Spike leave, in kind of a big hurry..."

"Nothing important," Xander said dismissively, ceasing to snicker. "And as for the second part – you think I really care about what those two get up to?"

* * *

**Outside Xander's room, Angel Investigations**

**June 19****th****, 2004**

{ _I really hate my life sometimes,_ } Cordelia thought angrily to herself, before knocking on the door and entering Xander's room. The brunette had had a rather bad day today, so far.

First off, one of the detective agency's clients had blatantly refused to pay for services rendered, so she'd had to talk to a lawyer about available options. And that variety of bloodsucker had the nerve to charge extra for doing business on a Saturday! Ugh. Maybe she should threaten to feed him to Spike –

Later, some of the Slayers had gotten into an argument over who had first use of the pool that afternoon, and Cordy had had to settle the dispute after Andrew had failed to do so. It had taken threatening not to let _**any**_ of the teenage brats use the facilities to make them calm down, and see reason –

Then the female boss of the detective agency had walked in on Gunn and Faith having sex in the Slayer's office, a short while later –

And _**that**_ had served to remind Cordelia that the last man she'd been with was Connor, even if the only memory she had of said liaison was Whistler's repulsive little episode of 'show and tell'. And in Cordy's view, it was a good thing for her sanity how she was unable to remember anything that had happened whilst she'd been possessed by Jasmine. The stories she'd heard were bad enough, and there wasn't enough 'ewww' in the world to express her revulsion with regard to all that!

"Something wrong, Cor?" Xander asked, wheeling his chair around and seeing her expression.

"Well, yeah, but never mind all that. We need to talk," Cordelia said firmly, figuring that enough time had passed since he'd woken up for them to have a very important and long-overdue conversation.

"Yeah? About what?"

"About 'us', you big dummy!"

"Huh?" Xander looked terminally clueless about what his ex meant by that.

"Us! As in, you and me, and where we go from here. In terms of our relationship..." Trailing off upon seeing his expression, Cordelia then added, "What? All the stuff I learned when I accidentally went inside your head, six months ago? You thought I'd forgotten about that? Well, I haven't! At least, not entirely..."

Xander shook his head slowly. "Uh, sorry, Cor; but totally clueless am I. What, uh, what are you talkin' about?"

"Oh my God, seriously?! You don't remember? Auuuggghhhh! Well, that's just great; I remember all that, and you don't!" Cordelia groaned. "Damn it, doof – look, that Ethan Rayne guy from back in junior year, he-"

"Ethan Rayne?" Harris interrupted, a spark of memory igniting. "Wait – I remember having a dream where his name was mentioned, just before I woke up!"

"What dream?"

Xander frowned. "Some people I know – well, we were in this dark place with a table and a couple of chairs, and they talked to me about some stuff. Something about Chaos, and a big battle that's coming up – I dunno, at the time it all seemed very important..."

"Yeah, well, we can get back to that later. Now _**listen**_ to me, lameass – thanks to that Ethan guy trying to wake you up from your coma, in order to send me back into mine-"

"WHAT?!"

"Oh, relax, I stopped him no problem – but in the process I accidentally ended up inside your mind, like I said before," Cordelia said impatiently, not bothering to mention that Ethan had simply disappeared back then.

"You really went inside my mind?" Xander asked, staring at her.

"Yeah, and while I was there, I talked with your subconscious. It was kinda weird, how part of the time it looked like you – and part of the time it looked like Dawn, or that Anya woman!"

Xander blinked. "Huh?"

Cordelia nodded, quickly telling him everything. Including her encounters with Fish Monster Xander, Hyena Xander, Rennfield Bug-eating Xander and Vampire Xander. She even mentioned that bit about the Han Solo and Princess Leia slave girl outfits. After seeing the expression on her ex-boyfriend's face, the young woman said, "Okay, I know it sounds kinda unbelievable-"

"Kinda?" Xander interrupted, giving her a Look. "Cordy, are you even listening to yourself? You're making me sound like a, a Hellmouth-y version of that Nineties TV show, _Herman's Head_!"

"More like _Max Headroom_, dumbass – 'cause that describes the inside of _**your**_ skull perfectly!" The Seer then took a deep breath. "Anyway, after I talked with your subconscious, that's sorta how I got access to your personal memories. Like the trials you went through for me, with that butler guy – Jeeves, or whatever his name was!"

"What? You _**remember**_ that? Oh, good Godfrey Cambridge, I wish you didn't," Xander said, looking concerned.

"Whatever, and hey! Don't use the w-word like that, you goofhead! Now, where was I? Oh, yeah! While I was talking with your subconscious and we went on that ridiculously long hike inside your head, I learned that your original destiny had been torn apart. And after I demanded to know details, I-"

"Stop right there," Xander interrupted for the third time. "I mean it, Cordy. Because I'm pretty sure I can guess where this is going, and quite honestly, I don't wanna talk about it. Not now. Maybe not ever."

"What? You don't want to talk about our children? About the life we could and _**should **_have had together, if it hadn't been for Skip and that evil bitch he worked for?" Cordelia asked incredulously.

"Like I said, not now," Xander shook his head slowly, his face now an expressionless mask. "Because that Xander Harris and Cordelia Chase, who got married after high school and who were together for nearly eighty years? Well, truth is – we're not them, and they're not us. Hell, far as I'm concerned? They're two totally different people, who never had to deal with everything that we've had to in our lives. Like the rebar, Wesley, Anya, Angel, the coma – yours and mine – not to mention everything else."

"So, what are you saying? I mean, you sacrificed six months of your life for me!" Cordelia said hotly. "You tracked down that shaman, you underwent those trials, you faced down the Powers; you _**saved**_ _**my life**_, you idiot! Come on – you can't tell me that you did all that just 'cause you were _**bored**_, or whatever?"

"Look, Cordy – after I learned the truth about you, and found the answers I was looking for in Zanzibar? Everything I did, it wasn't to score points against Angel, or get back together with you," Harris explained slowly. "I did what I did because I was in a very bad place back then, and I just wanted to do something with my life that was worth the pain and sacrifice – preventing you from needlessly dying that way. That's all."

Cordelia felt like her heart was breaking all over again, just like back in high school. It was only the fact that she was Cordelia Chase, and she did _**not**_ give up on fighting for something she wanted that easily, which allowed her to say, "So what are you going to do now, then?"

Xander shrugged. "Not sure. Probably prepare for that big battle that's coming, somehow, and afterwards get myself a normal life somewhere. If I'm still around, once the dust settles."

"You really think that's an option, Harris?" Cordelia asked, her half-lidded eyes boring directly into his mismatched brown and hazel ones. Her voice bitter and acidic, she added, "Because I don't. No matter where you go or what you do, you'll attract the weirdness straight to you like a magnet. And that's not just a pissed-off ex-girlfriend talking; it's someone who _**knows **_you well enough to be absolutely sure of that!"

With another small shrug of his shoulders, Xander had to admit – the odds were that Cordelia was completely right about that particular prediction.

TBC...


	11. Reunion, Part Two

See Part One for disclaimer and details. Hello all, and welcome to the latest chapter of Shards of Fate! Thanks as always to our reviewers and the people who have sent feedback of any sort. Okay, here is the second half of the two-parter as promised, we hope you'll like it. And please, tell us what you think of it! Fair warning, though, the tension and conflict/argument in the story will intensify from this point onwards...

* * *

**Part Eleven: Reunion, Part Two**

**Abandoned building, Los Angeles**

**June 20****th****, 2004**

Ethan Rayne was not exactly in the greatest of moods, as he stared at his captive tied to a chair. Ever since he had shown up in that empty hospital room, he'd wanted answers; and yet, all he had right now was mostly questions.

It had been something of a shock, discovering that he'd somehow travelled forward in time to the summer of 2004. From Ethan's point of view, one moment he had been trying to fend off Cordelia's semi-crazed attack whilst Willow had been under his 'clementia nigrum' spell – and the next moment both women, and that Harris bloke, had vanished. No machinery, no people, nothing and no one in the room except him. Not even the bed was present. It had taken going down to the hospital lobby for him to learn why...

Not that that had explained the 'how.' Not even Wo-Pang – who had been _**very**_ surprised to see the Englishman again – had been able to explain how Ethan had arrived at this point in time. In fact, the only useful thing that the shaman had been able to tell him was that nothing had changed, with regard to the upcoming disintegration of his soul. That had made Rayne decide that he _**had**_ to find out if whatever had sent him forward in time, could also do the reverse.

Send him back down the river of years, in order to save himself from a fate worse than death.

After all, it wasn't like he could appeal to the local branch of Wolfram & Hart for payment in return for services that had been attempted to be rendered. There was nothing but an empty space, now, where the evil law firm's building used to be; good riddance in one sense, yes, given the demonic law firm's reputation for dealing with failure, but it also didn't help the British man's cause at all.

In any case, Ethan had thought about it, and decided that most likely it was the brunette who'd burst in and tackled him to the floor that had been responsible for what had happened. That red-haired witch had almost certainly been too out of it to accomplish anything, and ditto the one-eyed vegetable he'd been hired to wake up. Which didn't _**completely**_ rule them out, of course; but the simplest explanation was most often the correct one, and all that.

A few polite questions to the right people at that private hospital had quickly netted Ethan Cordelia's name, and a simple Internet search had provided the woman's address. But Rayne had been justifiably wary of approaching the Seer in person, or by any sort of proxy. Given their last encounter, Ethan had decided instead to acquire information from someone who worked there, at her so-called detective agency.

Classic battle strategy; always target the adversary's weakest link.

"What's going on?" Andrew demanded fearfully, as Ethan ripped the bag off his head and Wells blinked furiously, his eyes attempting to adjust to the dim ambient lighting. He spotted the British wizard and started to say, "Uh, who are you?"

"I'll ask the questions," Ethan replied sharply. "Now, then, tell me about Cordelia Chase."

"C-c-cordelia?"

"Yes. And don't dawdle – time is rather an issue for me, I'm afraid," Ethan smiled.

The sight of that cold, shark-like grin instantly gave Andrew a case of the chills, and robbed him of all semblance of courage. "Uh, okay, um – what, what do you want to know?"

"Her powers. Her abilities. What she can or can't do; everything you know, old chap. And please don't lie to me; the consequences won't be pleasant for you, I'm afraid."

Andrew didn't need any more encouragement. He began to spill everything he knew, before answering Ethan's questions about what might have happened in Xander's hospital room six months ago. He noticed that his captor didn't seem very happy with the answers he'd received, and so Wells babbled, "I don't, I don't know anything definite about that, you know. I wasn't even around at the time; all I know is, is, is what I've heard when the others talked about Xander..."

"It's all right, mate, I believe you," Ethan said reflectively, before he pulled out a knife and cut Andrew loose. Ignoring the Yank's surprise as Andrew stood up from the chair, Ethan went over to a nearby table and grabbed the can of Coke sitting there. He popped the tab and offered the can to Andrew, saying "There you go. Your throat must be incredibly parched by now, after all."

Andrew certainly hadn't been expecting this. Frowning, he said, "Uh, so – is that it? Like, can I go now?"

"Why not? Like I said, I don't have time to waste on trivialities," Ethan shrugged.

Somewhat reassured, Andrew grinned in relief and took a deep gulp of the soft drink. Immediately, though, he felt funny as the liquid travelled down his throat. "Uh..."

Ethan watched as Andrew started to stumble around, before he guided Wells back to the chair. He then began the real interrogation of his prisoner.

Torture, Rayne knew, was an obsolete way of getting information. It took too long, and even when the subject appeared to have been broken, he sometimes lied convincingly or only told part of the truth. There were certain magical drugs, however, which worked quickly and completely reliably. And it hadn't been any great effort for Ethan to substitute the soda within the can for veritas root extract and trick Andrew into drinking it, to check that he hadn't been told lies or half-truths.

Much to Ethan's disappointment, however, he quickly found out that Wells hadn't lied or been evasive in any way; it was quickly confirmed that what Cordelia had done to him back then, it had basically been an accident. She couldn't control the demon powers she'd been gifted with, either then or now – so, given the very little time he had left to work with, Ethan quickly dismissed the Seer as a source of useful aid and succor. What with her uncontrolled abilities, the little tart was more of a menace than anything else.

Annoyed with himself for wasting his precious time this way, Ethan began to consider his next course of action, leaving the drugged young man behind in the abandoned building without a second thought (or even a first one).

And by the time Andrew crawled out of that abandoned building, the nerd was hallucinating and having psychotic fits as well...

* * *

**Angel Investigations, Los Angeles**

**Later that day**

Xander grunted, as he managed to wiggle his toes and lift his legs up off the bed. He thought that soon, sooner than either the doctor or Melissa believed possible, he would be able to ditch the wheelchair and walk on his own two feet again. And so what if the nurse had scowled in confusion, and muttered to herself that his rate of recovery was just way too unnaturally fast?

Sunnydale High alumnus, here. Xander was tempted to tell her, 'we do unnatural two shows a night, enjoy the fish and don't forget to tip your waitress', but he knew there was no point in getting Melissa mad with his..._**unique**_ brand of humor. Besides, years of watching TV shows like _ER_ and _CSI_ had made Harris well aware that you should never piss off someone with access to very large needles –

Harris then decided to take a break for a while, and let his thoughts roam wherever they wanted. He recalled how, over the past two days, he'd had plenty of visitors. In addition to Angel, Spike, Dawn and the Slayers stationed here in the City of Angels, Willow's ex-girlfriend Kennedy had briefly shown up from New York; that was where she was living now, along with a number of other Slayers who had been assigned to that city. She hadn't stayed long, though, once she'd heard that Willow would most likely be arriving soon –

Harris didn't need to guess why Kennedy had split. Like with Robin and Faith, the war-time romance between his oldest friend and the brash former Potential simply hadn't worked out. Maybe it had been because Kennedy had learned that Tara was Willow's true heart's desire, thanks to Ethan's 'clementia nigrum' spell – or maybe it hadn't. But either way, the end of the relationship obviously hadn't been pretty.

{ _Ought to do something about it, maybe? None of my business, I know. But Kennedy's a good Slayer, if nothing else, and I suppose she deserves to have some happiness in her life..._ }

Xander's thoughts were interrupted as Dawn stormed into the room, with Faith trailing behind her. The Summers woman then said angrily, "Okay, Xander, _**what**_ have you done?!"

"Huh?"

"Oh, come on! What, you think I'm blind, or, or _**stupid?!**_ Cordelia's been depressed and miserable as hell since yesterday! So, what have you done?" Dawn demanded again.

Xander looked at her quizzically. "Uh, Dawn, just so I'm clear on this – you learn that Cordy's having emotional problems, and so by some kinda insane troll logic, it's automatically my fault?"

"Percentage play, guy. And past history isn't exactly on your side," Faith explained, as Dawn glared at him for the question.

"Eh, good point," Xander acknowledged. "And yeah, I guess maybe I coulda handled that conversation we had yesterday a bit better..."

"What conversation?" the female teen demanded at once.

"Sorry, Dawn Giovanni, but that's private stuff between me and Cordelia," Xander stonewalled her at once.

"What? I thought you promised not to keep any more secrets from me – like when you didn't tell me that you'd learned that Cordy was in a coma, all those months ago!" Dawn shouted, as Faith winced from the sheer volume of the outraged outburst.

"Dawn, it's not about that," Xander said, trying to be patient. "I'm just saying, some things between a man and a woman aren't appropriate for public debate or discussion. Like, did I ask you for all the intimate details after you slept with that guy – what was his name, Tim?"

"That's _**not**_ the same thing!" Dawn said hotly, even though her deep blush and quick glance towards Faith indicated that that story hadn't become common knowledge around here yet.

"Me, I'm not so sure," Faith stated thoughtfully, as Dawn turned to face her. The Slayer added, "I mean, think about it, kiddo – with their history? What are the odds that Cordelia couldn't restrain herself any longer, and tried to put the moves on Xander's ass – and he told her 'no'? It'd explain why she's been pretending not to be in a deep funk for the past twenty-four hours..."

Dawn's eyes went wide. "Oh my God, you're right!" She then turned to Xander and glared at him again. "And that's _**exactly**_ the sort of idiotic thing you'd do, isn't it? Cordelia _**finally**_ decides to forgive you and take you back, something I once thought would _**never **_happen, but you go and-"

"Dawn. If our friendship means anything to you, anything at all – then _**stop**_. I mean it," Xander cut her off sharply, with a flinty look in his eyes. "Like I said, what's between me and Cordy is private. So don't assume that you know better than I do and start interfering in something that's none of your business, okay? I'm asking you as a friend, and as a grown-up, to respect my wishes and stay out of this."

"But-"

"Dawn? Do I have to remind you what happened with Buffy and Willow and Giles, because they thought that _**they**_ knew best where Cordy and me were concerned? And what that eventually led to?" Xander cut across her protest smoothly, his tone of voice now as cold as a glacier. "Because I don't want things to end up like that between you and me, Dawnie, I really don't. I've lost enough friends thanks to that sort of thing, already!"

Dawn stared at him, before becoming convinced that Harris was serious. A mulish expression appearing on her face, the human incarnation of the Key then quickly left the room without looking back.

"Kinda harsh," Faith commented neutrally, staring at her one-time lover.

"Yeah, but Dawn's a Summers woman, and you know just how goddamn stubborn they are. Asking her nicely to stay out of it wasn't gonna accomplish jack," Xander replied. Then he turned to look directly at the Slayer. "And where've you been, Faith? Haven't seen you around here since the day I woke up."

"Anaheim, and a few other places," Faith shrugged. "Xander, gotta admit; I'm kinda surprised 'bout how you're actually being civil to me. Figured I'd get lumped in with B and the others, about the Big Lie of 2003..."

"Nah. I heard from Cordy how you didn't decide to conceal that stuff from me, which makes all the difference in my book," Xander shrugged back. "Sure, you shoulda woken me and Dawn up that night and told us everything; but it's not like I haven't screwed up that sort of way myself. So far as I'm concerned, no harm done. Anyway, what were you up to in Anaheim?"

"Just doin' some digging." Faith smiled, glad that there were no issues between herself and the formerly one-eyed man.

"Mind if I ask what you were digging into?" Xander said. He wasn't sure why he was suddenly so curious about this, but just went with his instincts and asked.

"Naw. And ran into someone who told me that Buffy's college beefstick, that Riley guy; he got himself all blowed up last year," Faith commented, ignoring Xander's look of surprise. "Man left behind a widow, and a kid who'll grow up never knowing his dad. I figured since Finn was on the list of people I wanted to make amends to one day, I dunno – I thought maybe I could give his family some sorta closure, find out who did it..."

{ _Shit. Sorry, Riley. And hope you made it upstairs safely._ } "Any progress?" Xander then asked the Chosen One, slipping into his 'interested professional' persona and burying his personal feelings. "Leads, suspects, anything?"

"Leads, nothing – after all this time, the trail's stone cold. Suspects, way too many – that boy managed to make himself lotta enemies in the demon world! Plus, it's the military. Not sure how much you remember, but they were never too keen on the whole 'playing nice with outsiders' thing," Faith shrugged again.

{ _The Initiative, sure. But regular military, that's different,_ } Soldier Xander whispered inside the man's head. { _Never mind, focus. You need to –_ }

"And by the way? I know all about you and Cordelia. On account of she needed to talk to _**someone**_ about all that, and as the outsider, guess I qualified somehow," Faith continued on, much to Xander's amazement. "Lemme guess; Queenie wanted to talk about the life you guys shoulda had together, especially them two kids of yours? And you shut her down?"

"Yeah. And please don't get any ideas, Faith; I don't want to talk about all that with you, either," Xander said quietly.

"Why not?"

"Same reason I gave to Dawnie; that's private stuff," Harris replied, deadpan.

"Still, oughta talk about it with someone."

"Why? I mean, leaving Sunnydale for good, and not battling the forces of evil every week? You gotta admit, if nothing else – that sure as hell doesn't sound like the Xander Harris I was, back then..."

After looking askance at him and then dope-slapping him, Faith sarcastically pointed out, "You got issues about how you were supposed to give up fighting the good fight? So what? I mean, was it your girlfriend's destiny to get the visions, and almost die in a mystical fucking coma? Quit being such a moron, you retard! Bottom line, neither of you are where you're supposed to have been. You're where the hell you are now. Deal with it!"

Shaking her head, Faith quickly exited the room while a somewhat bemused-looking Xander swung his legs over the side of the bed, rubbing the back of his head and staring at the departing brunette curiously. { _Have I completely lost my mind, or was that Faith's idea of attempting to play matchmaker?_ }

* * *

**Outside the new Angel Investigations agency, Osgood Boulevard**

**June 21****st****, 2004**

Angel looked up at the Monday morning sun, feeling its warmth upon his skin as a tingly feeling of appreciation swept through him. Even though it had been quite a number of weeks now since his human physiology had been restored, he never got tired of basking in the daylight. Or watching the sunrise or the sunset, as the fancy took him.

The only thing missing that would have made such activities not just pleasurable but _**perfect**_ was –

{ _Don't go there,_ } Angel quickly thought to himself, as the tingly feeling vanished and he tried to concentrate on his upcoming unpleasant task. { _No point in going there, laddie, not anymore. And may as well get this over with; no point in delaying it any longer. _}

Squaring his shoulders and banishing the look of defeat from his face, Angel entered the detective agency and made his way through the various Slayers and other people in the lobby. He saw Faith talking to that redhead, Violet something or other, and he briefly caught the brunette's eye; the Lehane woman nodded, before returning her attention to her sister Slayer.

"Hey, Angel, g'morning. Did you have a good weekend?" the young woman in charge of answering the phones during the night said, before yawning loudly and stretching a bit in her chair. "Wow, been a long shift...definitely need to go home and get some sleep!"

Grimacing, Angel thought to himself, { _Yeah. I remember what it was like, when I worked the graveyard shift around here. And to think, I willingly accepted a menial job like that – because I was __**that **__desperate for Cordelia to give 'us' a try! Damn it. I may have gone from a Champion to a flunky around here, but that didn't mean I had to lose nearly all self-respect as well. So it's time to change that!_ }

"Actually, my weekend wasn't the greatest," Angel replied to the receptionist's question. "But I made a decision, and I need to talk to Cordelia about it. Pretty sure I won't be manning the phones, afterwards; so you should get someone else to cover the day shift, for after you leave."

"Sounds serious," the young woman said, frowning.

"Yeah, guess it is," Angel nodded. "Be back in a few minutes." With that, he took his leave of his co-worker and headed for Cordelia's private office. He was about to knock on the door, when the ex-vampire heard the sound of something smashing apart inside the room – a vase or something like that, most likely.

{ _Heaven hath no rage like love to hatred turned, nor hell a fury like a woman scorned,_ } Angel thought philosophically, recalling the original verse by William Congreve and easily able to guess what – or rather, who – had put Cordelia in such a bad mood. { _You know, Harris, in a way I almost pity you. There's an ancient Chinese curse that goes, 'may you live in interesting times' – and I get the feeling that life is gonna get __**very**__ interesting for you, very soon!_ }

"Cordelia, can I come in?" Angel called out, after knocking on the door. He took her silence as an affirmative and opened up, quickly entering the office before shutting the door behind him. The centuries-old Irishman took a swift look at the mess, before focusing on Cordelia. "Bad time for us to talk?"

"No," the head of Angel Investigations exhaled, before sitting down behind her desk. "And sorry you had to see this, but I just had to..."

"Let off some steam?" Angel nodded. "Yeah. And probably a good idea to do it in here, rather than in the gym. Slayers are teenage girls, they gossip – and you do have an image to maintain, right?"

"Right," Cordy nodded. "Anyway, what's up?"

Angel smiled – a tired, pained smile which Cordelia had never seen on his face before. "Nothing. Everything. I need to talk to you, one last time."

"One last time? Angel, what are you talking about?" the Seer demanded.

"Dawn came around to Spike's apartment last night, while I was there," Angel shrugged slightly. "That's how I learned that you've made your choice – and you picked Xander, not me."

"Uh..." Cordelia said uncomfortably. "Look, Angel, I know that you two have never gotten along since, well, uh – since the day you met, I guess. And I also know how hard it's been for you over the past month or so, every time you asked me out on a date and I said no, but the thing is I don't...I couldn't..."

"I know. And it's okay, Cordelia – I mean, it's not like I didn't see this coming," the former vampire said as calmly as he could, even though a trace of bitter disappointment could still be heard in his voice. "I guess that up until now, I just couldn't let go of the hope that one day, somehow, we'd get back to where we were two years ago. That night we were supposed to meet up at Point Dume, I mean."

Cordelia looked at the smashed vase on the floor. Angel's words had reminded her of a time when she had felt closer to him than anyone else, and the next logical step after Groo had left was giving 'them' a shot. She said slowly, "Do you think that if we'd met up that night, right now we'd be...?"

"Yeah. Or I prefer to think we would be, anyway."

Cordelia still couldn't look at him directly. "Guess we missed our moment, huh?" She wisely left unspoken her feelings that their 'moment' wouldn't have worked out in the long run, anyway.

Angel nodded, a resigned and beaten look suddenly appearing on his face. "Maybe we were meant to. And I'm not talking about Jasmine and Skip, either; maybe Fate, or Destiny, or whatever you wanna call it was trying to get you back together with the guy you were originally meant to be with, all along."

That caused Cordelia to look up and stare at her employee in surprise. "That's gotta be the first time I've heard you acknowledge that. Ever. Angel, what the hell?"

"Yeah, it's because I've decided – well, I-I can't stay here anymore. Because this isn't me, Cordelia. This job – this life – it just isn't me," Angel tried to explain his feelings, hesitating a bit. "I was a Champion, but now I'm nothing but a – look, I love you. You know that, right? And ever since I became human, I've been hoping and praying that somehow, someway, we'd get our happily-ever-after. But since it's clear now that we won't – well, this is sorta my off-ramp from the Cordelia Chase highway, so to speak. Kinda like Groo when he left, way back when."

Cordelia looked stunned by the man's words. "Groo? What? Angel – where the hell are you even gonna go, if you leave?"

Angel shrugged. "Massachusetts, actually. Because Connor's transferring to MIT."

"_**What?**_"

"His girlfriend named Tracy? He told me that he doesn't want to lose her, so Connor's planning to follow her to Cambridge before the summer's over," Angel shrugged again. "He's my son, and I want to stick close to him for a few more years. After that, though – who knows? I haven't visited Ireland in a lifetime, so it might be good to go home to Galway for a while. Maybe even visit the continent, too-"

"Do you even _**have**_ a passport?" Cordelia interrupted, looking at him in amazed disbelief. "And hey, what are you gonna do for money? I mean, on what I pay you...c'mon, Angel, this is crazy!"

Angel gave her a pitying look. "Cordelia? Maybe you've forgotten, but Angelus walked the Earth for nearly two centuries – and he stashed plenty of loot here and there, whenever the fancy struck him. After my soul was restored, I refused to touch that sort of blood money on principle; but it was still there, if I ever needed it. And after everything that's happened to me this year – well, let's just say I've decided that I don't need to concern myself about that sort of thing anymore."

Cordelia flushed. "Well, it's not just that, I mean you've only been human again for a few weeks – Angel, are you sure this is the right thing to do?"

"Positive," Angel nodded, as the brunette got up and came around her desk to stare directly into his face. "I'm gonna miss you, Cordelia. More than you'll ever know. But – this _**is**_ the right thing to do. For you and me. And tell Xander – I dunno, tell him he's a very lucky guy – and if he ever hurts you like that again, I'll be back to kill him, okay?"

"Yeah, right," Cordy smirked for a moment. "Willow would turn you into frog pate afterwards, the moment she heard about it!"

"Good point," Angel ruefully acknowledged. He then hugged her tightly, and gave her a quick kiss on the forehead. "Goodbye, Cordy. I'll never forget you. And I'll see you again one day, I hope."

"Yeah, me too," Cordelia said through the sudden lump in her throat, as Angel turned around and headed for the door. It was somewhat telling how she didn't try to stop him from leaving, though, or try to talk him out of following his son across the country.

"So long, Angel. And – good luck."

* * *

**Secret location, Los Angeles**

**Later that night**

"LET ME GO, YOU ASSHOLE!" Dawn screamed at Ethan, struggling to get loose from her bonds. Her hands and feet were tied to four stakes that had been driven deeply into the earth, and even though the young woman struggled mightily to get loose, she was unable to do so.

"Be quiet, girl," Ethan said irritably. Dawn's screams were almost enough to make him regret kidnapping her earlier on – almost, but not quite. "Even though that's not what you actually are, are you?"

Dawn abruptly went still, looking at Rayne carefully. "What are you talking about?"

"Now, now," Ethan smirked, as he continued his work. An elaborate circle-seal design, with a six-point star circle inside that was large enough for someone to stand or kneel in. "Let's not play games, my dear. We both know what you really are – the Key. That's the whole point of why you're here, after all."

"You're not one of Glory's worshippers," Dawn said, trying to stall for time. She now knew she was in deep trouble – and it wasn't even a Tuesday! "How do you even know what the Key is?"

"My sources include the Loa. And a witch who was extremely enthusiastic to cooperate with my search for the truth," Ethan said, continuing to paint his circle-seal. "Of course, she did need some not-inconsiderable persuasion at the start."

"Meaning, you only tortured her once," Dawn said, glaring at her captor.

"Ah, now, I'm sure you know that old saying about breaking eggs in order to make an omelet, little miss. But don't worry, it won't be long now," Ethan said cheerfully. "I'm almost done, as a matter of fact."

"You know that my sister and my friends are gonna show up and stop you from destroying the world this way, don't you?" Dawn said belligerently. "So do yourself a favor, and let me go now before they come charging in here to kill you. I promise I'll put in a good word for you, if you do."

"Good heavens, what makes you think that I'm doing all this to destroy the world?" Ethan asked, sounding amazed. "My dear Key, nothing could be further from the truth! I prefer this planet exactly the way it is, so I have no intention of harming it in any way. And that includes having all those numberless demon dimensions out there mixing with our own, and destroying all life as we know it."

"But – then why are you doing this?" Dawn wanted to know, looking confused.

"The Key opens the barrier between the different dimensions, as you know. And time is a dimension," Ethan explained, as he straightened up. He looked at Dawn with a kindly expression on his face, saying, "The problem is I don't have much time left, I'm afraid. My soul shall soon cease to exist, and afterwards, I'll die. My only chance is to travel back in time, and prevent myself from ever becoming a prisoner of the Initiative. Or, failing that, go back to when I first fragmented my soul, and seek help from a certain shaman to prevent my untimely demise."

Dawn couldn't believe it. "Then geez, why kidnap me like this? Why not just ask politely for help? If that's true, I would have been willing to-"

"It's not that simple, unfortunately," Ethan interrupted her, looking mildly apologetic. "According to my research, the only way to use the Key to unlock that particular gate is to bleed your human form, at a certain time of year. Today is the summer solstice, which is one of the two times in question. However, the amount of blood required – well, it's impossible for you to survive it, at least in the mortal guise you've been fashioned into. Terribly sorry, but that's just the way it is. Now, I think we've wasted enough time on chit-chat..."

Dawn began screaming at him again, but Ethan ignored the young woman as he finished painting the circle-seal. He then lit three black candles, and knelt down within the six-point circle.

"I call upon Chaos," Ethan intoned, beginning the spell. "Hear now this plea by your most impious, devoted son." He then switched to Latin and chanted, "It is the longest day of the year, and here lies the Key. Let the gateway to the past be opened!" So saying, he took out a wicked-looking dagger from behind his back and began to bleed the shrieking Dawn Summers, without the slightest bit of hesitation.

The blood oozed out of the mortally wounded young woman. Ethan then said, "So mote it be!" The candles abruptly went out, and the British wizard looked excited. He stared down at Dawn and said, "I think it's working, I'm about to go back-"

The entire world stopped, for one timeless second.

"Kcab og ot tuoba m'I, gnikrow s'ti kniht I," were the next words out of the mage's mouth as, like a movie reel running in reverse, the wheels of time began to spin backwards.

But that was when something went wrong.

That was hardly surprising, though. Quite frankly, Ethan should have remembered the words from the Spirit Guide in Hancock Park all those months ago, when that otherworldly oracle had warned him not to do this; that he would be unleashing Chaos upon the living Earth by his actions. Unfortunately, in his haste and understandable desire to save his own life, Rayne hadn't given sufficient thought to the consequences if something were to go wrong. And by this point it was practically impossible for Ethan to do that, anyway, given the sorry state of his mutilated soul.

History began to completely unravel – until for some unknown reason, it abruptly came to a screeching halt, approximately sixteen hours before the spell began.

And within his bedroom at the Angel Investigations building, Xander Harris abruptly sat up in bed – a loud scream issuing forth from his throat...

TBC...


	12. Xanderhog Day, Part One

See Part One for disclaimer and details. Hi, and welcome to the latest chapter of the fic! Thank you, everyone, who has read and reviewed the story and sent feedback so far. And given some of the reviews and comments lately, even though we don't usually ask this, we couldn't help wondering – do you, the readers, believe that we're not portraying Angel accurately in this fanfic? We were trying to show him as a guy caught in a very difficult situation during season 5 of the show, and having to deal with the consequences of his actions both during and after the events of NFA – including Cordelia choosing someone else instead of him, as a result of everything that's happened in the story. Sorry if that wasn't clear! Anyway, here's the latest two-parter, for your reading pleasure...

* * *

**Part Twelve: Xanderhog Day, Part One**

**Angel Investigations, Los Angeles**

**June 21****st****, 2004**

"Uhhh! What the _**fuck**_-?" Xander panted, looking completely freaked. He was sweating, and looking like he'd just had the mother of all bad dreams. The last thing he remembered was the floor of his hotel room splitting apart as if hit by a giant earthquake, and then some weird demon creatures had appeared in what had been the walls of the building, screaming as if in pain...

{ _Okay. Okay. Either I have major psychological problems, or else that was one hell of an unexpected nightmare,_ } Harris cogitated to himself. He then swung his legs off the bed and stood up, stretching. {_ And it's not like I can blame it on eating too much pizza last night..._ }

Recent events quickly ran through the young man's mind, what had happened over the past twenty-four hours. After going downstairs yesterday morning, he'd noticed Angel departing the building through the front doors; and later, Cordelia had told him that the ex-vampire had quit his job at the detective agency and was leaving town. Something that, much to his surprise, Xander found that he had no real feelings about, one way or another.

Afterwards, the doctor had pronounced him in good health and he'd gladly shoved the wheelchair away, as Melissa had said goodbye and wished him all the best for the future. But then Willow, Buffy and Giles had shown up; and while the ensuing reunion had been nostalgically pleasant at first, that had soon changed...

Because the witch and the alpha Slayer had started babbling about how Xander was going to leave L.A., now that he was finally okay to travel. How he would move in with one or the other of them, and they would take care of him. How they would watch out for him, so that he never did anything so foolish ever again. Her temper quickly reaching boiling point, Cordelia hadn't taken that well _**at all**_. And to his credit, Giles had tried to stop it...

But both Willow and Buffy had seemed completely unable to understand what the head of the Council was attempting to do. And to their disbelief and dismay, it had finally ended with Xander cynically asking the new arrivals what color the dog leash they were planning to put around his neck was going to be; before Cordelia had summarily ordered Buffy and Willow to get out of her home, and never come back.

Talk about a nasty scene to witness.

Anyway, Xander had left Cordelia's office not long afterwards, saying that he was going to go for a walk. He hadn't wandered too far from the building, just in case, and eventually returned later that afternoon after visiting one of the local banks to learn what was the state of his savings account and investments. Much to his relief, Harris had learned that he didn't have to worry about money, at least not for the short term; as the beneficiary of Anya's will, financially speaking he was in pretty good shape. Better than he'd dared hope after waking up from the coma, at any rate.

After he'd returned to Angel Investigations, he'd spent some time inspecting the would-have-been hotel, noting how some areas still weren't finished off properly. The executive construction worker within him was utterly appalled by some parts of what he'd seen, actually, and Xander had made a snap decision to stick around here until at least the place was up to code and his own personal standards.

Something that, no matter how much she'd tried to hide it, had definitely made Cordelia very happy, if not outright ecstatic.

Later, he'd watched a movie – _While You Were Sleeping_ with Sandra Bullock, ha-ha, very funny – with some of the Slayers he'd known from Sunnydale, before deciding to retire to bed.

He hadn't seen Dawn all day, but to Xander's mind, that wasn't surprising. He knew that he'd upset her by threatening to end their friendship if she didn't back off about Cordelia, and so it was best to let her calm down before approaching the angry brunette again. Back in Sunnydale, he'd suffered through enough of her teenage snits to know that approaching Dawn Summers while she was pissed was just _**asking **_for trouble.

{ _Now that's odd,_ } Harris thought to himself, ending the woolgathering as he abruptly noticed the wheelchair right next to his bed. { _What's that doing here? Did someone bring it up during the night, for some reason?_ }

And then, just like when he had arrived at the Hyperion Hotel after Sunnydale had turned into a giant crater – a cold chill suddenly crawled up Xander's spine. { _Something's wrong. I dunno what, but I get the feeling something...is very wrong... _}

* * *

**Main lobby, Angel Investigations **

**A short while later**

A soft bell chimed, and the elevator opened with Xander striding out, walking on his own two legs. Something which, as soon as Faith noticed it, made her rush over to where the man was standing and looking around in confusion. "Hey, Xander, what are you doing? You know you're not supposed to be walking yet! Not until the doc gives you the okay!"

"Not now, Faith," Xander told her absently. He then rushed over to where the main check-in counter was, and examined the day calendar. His eyes almost bugged out as the man said, "Great Pan and all his weeping virgins, it's _**Monday?**_ _**Again?!**_"

"Huh? What do you mean, again?" Faith didn't get that. Because for her, yesterday had been Sunday –

"It means that Houston, we have a problem," Xander said urgently. "Seriously! Listen to me, Faith. Yesterday was Monday. Today is supposed to be _**Tuesday!**_ Damn it, what's going on?"

"Yesterday was Sunday, and today is Monday. You get hit on the head or something, pal?" Faith demanded.

"No!" Xander shook his head, thinking quickly. "Uh...wait, if my yesterday was, like, completely erased – oh, geez. Ohhhh...Faith, you ever see that movie called _Groundhog Day_? 'Cause I'm thinking maybe, just maybe...I mighta become like the guy Bill Murray played in that flick, Phil whatever the hell his name was!"

"Phil Connors..." Faith remembered the name, and was pop-culture savvy enough to get the reference at once. "No shit?" The next moment, though, she was convinced after seeing the annoyed expression in Xander's eyes. "All right, assuming you haven't lost it completely – what's the plan?"

"How should I know?" Xander looked at her in annoyance again. "C'mon, Faith, I don't even know why I'm able to remember what happened! Ya think we should ask around if anybody else can remember yesterday, like I can?"

Faith gestured around the lobby. "You see anyone running around, like they can't believe what's going on?"

Xander had to admit, the Slayer had a point about that. "Okay, then, I...oh, crap." Harris paused for a few moments, thinking furiously. "He wouldn't have, would he? Not _**again!**_"

"You just lost me on the hairpin curve. Whatcha talking about?" Faith demanded.

"I just remembered, Faith – this has happened before. Well, kinda," Xander told her, an angry expression appearing on his face. "A few years ago, Buffy got all caught up in a time loop thingy for a while. There was this episode with an evil mummy hand in the Magic Box, and – no, never mind. The point is, it was those three nerds who were responsible – Warren, Jonathan and Andrew. And since both his partners are now dead..."

"Your prime suspect is the guy who thinks that being a Dungeon Master is a business class ticket to cool points? Yeah, I see where you're going with this," Faith nodded. She then called out, "Vi! Have you seen Andrew anywhere?"

"No, actually, I haven't," the red-haired Slayer frowned, as she came over to join them. "In fact, I haven't seen him since yesterday, or maybe the day before. And hey, Xander, you're not supposed to be-"

"Don't," Xander cut her off, with a sinking feeling in his chest. He had the horrible feeling that he was going to be hearing that sentence a _**lot**_ in the future, if they didn't get this damned mess fixed soon. "The doctor will be here in less than an hour and give me a clean bill of health; we went through all this yesterday."

"Yesterday?" Vi frowned.

"Yeah. Yesterday was Monday – for me, anyway. By the way, surprising me later tonight with _While You Were Sleeping_? Don't even think I'm gonna watch that movie two nights in a row!" Xander told her sternly.

Vi looked stunned. "How did you know-?"

"It's Xanderhog Day, sister," Faith suddenly unleashed a huge grin, the last fragments of doubt now swept away. "Keep it to yourself for now, but apart from Our Man Harris here, looks like we're trapped in a time loop! Groovy, huh?"

Vi looked at the older Slayer in consternation. "Groovy? How do you figure that?"

Faith shrugged, before holding up her breasts. "Well – I no longer have to worry about gravity eventually making the girls here sag, for starters!"

Xander shook his head. { _Trust Faith to find the bright side in any situation. Even one like this!_ } "All right, let's focus here. Willow and Buffy and Giles aren't due to show up until later this morning, so we need Wes to do a locator spell to find Andrew's ass, pronto. Vi, can you go find Monarchy Boy, let him know what's what?"

"So what do you want me to do?" Faith asked, as Vi nodded and raced off.

"Few days ago, Cordelia told me that Andrew hangs out with Spike. Something about those two setting up kitten poker game nights, way back when?" After Faith nodded, Xander added, "Then let's go visit Dead Boy junior, see if he knows where that geek is."

* * *

**Spike's basement apartment, Los Angeles**

**A while later**

Xander wasn't in the best of moods, as he and Faith had been delayed in getting here by L.A.'s typically horrible Monday morning traffic. Nonetheless, he forced himself to be patient as Faith banged three times on the door. { _Come on, Spike, we haven't got all day! Except that worst case scenario, we actually might..._ }

William the Bloody opened up, looking like he was in a bad temper. Well, duh; vampire. For him, this was almost the middle of the night. "What do you two effin' want?"

"Gee. Looks like someone got up on the wrong side of the coffin this morning," Faith smirked.

"Oh, yeah, very funny, Slayer. Somethin' like that, it's sure ta put me in a good mood and wanna help in whatever it is yer after," Spike growled.

"We're looking for Andrew. You seen him?" Xander got down to business.

"That tosser? No. What's he bloody well done now?" Spike abruptly shifted from annoyed to exasperated, in terms of mood.

"Maybe nothing. That's part of what we're trying to find out," Xander said, before his gaze widened and he looked behind Spike incredulously. "Dawn?"

"What are you doing here this early, Pipsqueak?" Faith asked.

"Don't call me that! Damn it, Faith, I start college in just a few months!" Dawn replied, looking annoyed. "And to answer your question, I didn't want to spend last night at Cordelia's detective agency. Not when I was so mad at a certain someone!" She glared at Xander. "And before you ask, I don't know where Andrew is either. Not that I'd be likely to tell you, even if I did!"

Xander exhaled noisily. "Gotta admit – you really do remind me of Buffy right now, Dawn. And believe me, it's not a compliment."

Those big blue eyes flashed angrily, and Dawn immediately slammed the door shut in Faith and Xander's faces. The Slayer turned to her companion and said, "All these years you've been hanging around the femmes, dude – and you _**still**_ don't know how to talk to us properly?"

"More like I've got a low tolerance for other people's issues, Faith. Or at least, right now I do," Xander shrugged. "Oh, hell. You got any ideas on where else we might look to find Andrew's tukus?"

"Nah. Hang on, I'll call Gunn; see if my boyfriend might have any thoughts on that," Faith got out her cell phone, as they walked away from the apartment and back up the stairs.

"You and that guy, huh? Hey, don't get me wrong, from what I remember Gunn was a damn good man to have on and at your side – but seriously. First Robin, now him? What happened, Faith? Did I ruin you for every other white guy in this world?" Xander asked with a perfectly straight face.

Faith stared at him in shock, before her lips started twitching madly. A few seconds later they were both snickering, and then laughing semi-hysterically. Finally, Faith managed to get herself back under control.

"Hey, once you go black, you just never go back. And you gave me one _**hell**_ of a flashback to the bad old days just now, stud," the Slayer said laughingly, before she abruptly sobered up. "And I never did apologize for trying to strangle you after we did our impression of the beast with two backs, did I? I _**am**_ sorry for that, though. For whatever it's worth."

"Apology accepted. And it's worth something, I guess," Xander shrugged. "Watery blood over the bridge now, though."

Faith eyed him suspiciously, as they came to a stop outside the building. "Just like that?"

He shrugged again. "If I could forgive Willow for trying to kill me on Kingman's Bluff that day, then I can do the same for you on the attempted asphyxiation thing. And at least you never lied to me about Cordelia being in a coma, like she and the others did."

{ _Oh come on, this again?_ } "Look, Xander, I'm not condoning what B and Red and Giles decided to do, you know that – but they didn't exactly have malicious intentions that night-"

"Sure, I figured that out almost as soon as one of the Council people hacked into Angel's emails for me. But like the old saying goes, the road to Hell is paved with good intentions," Xander interrupted smoothly, gazing deeply into Faith's dark eyes. "And fact is, we had quite the argument about that sort of thing, after those three showed up yesterday."

Faith looked both uncomfortable and curious at the same time. "How bad did it get?"

"Bad enough that Cordelia threw Buffy and Willow out of the hotel, and ordered them never to come back," Xander replied, before shaking his head. "Anyway, your boyfriend?"

"Right..." Faith hit the speed-dial for Gunn's number. A few seconds later she started talking to the man in question, before Charles handed his phone over to Wesley and he told Faith where the tracking spell had located Andrew. Which, by extraordinary coincidence, wasn't too far away from her current location.

The Slayer and her companion soon found Wells crawling along the street, before picking him up and carrying him back to their car. They quickly drove Andrew back to Angel Investigations, before dumping him on the lobby's couch.

"What the hell is he saying?" Shannon demanded, unconsciously touching the scar where Caleb had stabbed her last year as she listened to Andrew's incomprehensible babbling.

"I don't know. It's not any language I'm familiar with; human or demon," Wesley frowned.

"bortaS bIr jablu'DI' reH QaQqu' nay!" Andrew suddenly shouted, causing many people to recoil in alarm.

Rona's eyes widened, as she suddenly remembered where she'd heard that phrase before. One of her brothers was a Trekker, after all. "No way! It can't be!"

Xander nodded. "Yep, 'fraid so. Andrew just said that 'revenge is a dish best served cold' in Klingon. Well, guess it's better than those crappy love poems of his..."

"What the hell's going on out here?" Cordelia demanded, coming out of her office and joining the group clustered around the sofa where Wells was writhing. She looked at the guy and said in confusion, "Andrew? What the hell is this? What happened, where have you been?"

The geek's reply was again in Klingon, and immediately everyone looked to Xander for the translation. Harris shrugged and said, "You don't want to know what he just said."

"Why not?" the Seer demanded, not exactly in the greatest mood for stalling.

"Because you'd be tempted to kill him for it afterwards." Xander abruptly straightened up and leaned closer to the hallucinating nerd before shouting in a slightly accented voice, "Mister Wells! TammoH, petaQ!" He then slapped Andrew across the face with the back of his hand.

"Hey, hey, that's enough o' that!" Gunn automatically protested, before anyone else had a chance to do so.

"My apologies, Captain Picard," Andrew then said, his throaty and accented English causing everyone apart from Harris to stare at him in surprise. "Lieutenant Commander Wells reporting for duty, sir."

"Status report, Lieutenant Commander," Xander said sharply, even as Cordelia opened her mouth to demand answers.

"Situation non-optimal, sir. I was kidnapped by the Romulans and interrogated for information about Miss Chase," Andrew babbled, still caught up in the grip of his hallucination.

Xander immediately glanced at Cordelia in concern, before fixing his gaze back on Andrew. "What sort of information?"

"I...I...SoHvaD pagh vIjatlh, nojtaHghach romuluSngan!" Andrew suddenly screamed, his eyes becoming filled with hate as he stared at Xander without any trace of recognition.

"What did he say?" Cordelia demanded, instinctively moving closer to her ex-boyfriend.

"He said, and I'm kinda loosely translating here, 'I ain't got nothing to say to you, Romulan filth'," Xander said. Then he turned away from the hallucinating Andrew, dismissing him from consideration. "Well, whatever; this is pointless. I'd say it's pretty obvious that whatever's happened to him, Andrew's not responsible for the mess we're currently in-"

"Oh? And what mess is that?" a familiar female voice interrupted, as Melissa and the doctor arrived on the scene from upstairs. "And do you mind telling me where you've been all morning, and what you're doing out of your wheelchair?"

{ _Oh, yeah. This is gonna get real annoying real fast, I can just tell,_ } Xander thought to himself tiredly. Then he said, "Okay, fine, come and give me your final examination if you have to. Even though we already went through this yesterday..."

"What? But I wasn't even here yesterday!" the medical man said, looking confused, and staring at his patient.

"Never mind, doc. Just go with it," Faith grinned at him, as Wesley gestured to the various Slayers to hold Andrew down securely before he attempted to take a blood sample for analysis.

* * *

**Xander's room, Angel Investigations**

**Later that night**

Xander was sitting on his bed, thinking.

It had been a busy day. Wesley had learned that Andrew had a large quantity of a mystical truth drug in his system, and coupled with the nerd's semi-coherent confession about being interrogated for information concerning the Seer, Cordy had had a couple of Slayer bodyguards assigned to her just in case.

In addition, once the Seer had been fully briefed on the situation concerning Xander doing the previous day all over again, she had mentioned the Day that Never Was; something Angel had engineered with the help of the now-dead Oracles to the Powers That Be. Harris had learned from his ex-girlfriend that the former vampire had once erased a timeline where he had become human, after being exposed to the blood of a Mohra demon. And while Xander had suspected that Angel hadn't tried to do something like that again, a time-consuming trip to the man's apartment had still been necessary to confirm it.

Still, after returning to Angel Investigations, a brainstorming session had taken place, everyone present trying to help Harris figure out why this had happened and what (if anything) they could do about it. Buffy, Willow and Giles had walked in on the middle of the ideas exchange, and initially, the blonde Slayer had been somewhat skeptical that a crisis really was at hand.

Buffy's opinion had quickly changed, however, when Xander had told her everything she'd been planning to say to him after she'd arrived here from Europe. Unfortunately, Harris had later told everyone present about the Big Lie of 1998, after the blonde Slayer had said the wrong thing at the wrong time – and Faith had had to physically restrain Buffy from committing Xander-cide!

Cordelia had escorted him away from the alpha Slayer after that, figuring that it would be wise to give the older Summers sister enough time to cool off before resuming their conversation. The Seer had then driven him to Pasadena, to consult with Fred about their problem. Xander had to admit, at the time the idea had seemed to make sense; but it had turned out to be a complete waste of time when the Caltech physicist admitted that she had no idea what might have caused this, or why Xander remembered and no one else did.

A knock on the door distracted Harris from his musings. "Yeah?"

"Xander, it's me. Can I come in?" Willow's voice asked hesitantly.

He shrugged. "You know how I don't issue invitations like that, Will. Door's open, if you're able to come inside."

There was a soft 'click' as Willow turned the knob, opened the door and came into the room. After shutting the door, she looked at her childhood friend quizzically. "Seriously? You thought I might be a vampire?"

"Well, hey – I haven't forgotten about a certain incident involving a vampire you during senior year of high school," Xander shrugged. "So who's to say that what with everything else we've got going right now, Vamp Willow couldn't possibly show up as well?"

"Huh. You've got a point, I guess," the witch nodded, before shrugging and changing the subject. "I, uh, I was hoping we could talk."

"About what? What I said to Buffy earlier today?"

She briefly glared at him. "No. Even though I'm still kinda annoyed at you for not having enough faith in me that day, that wasn't what I meant."

"Then what did you mean?" Xander asked, looking unaffected by Willow's brief look of annoyance.

"Everything that happened with Cordelia," Willow said simply. "I'm sorry about – damn it, Xander, I just want to explain-"

"Don't bother," Xander cut her off at once. "We've already been through why you and Giles and Buffy did what you did. Why you guys told me that Cordy was on vacation with the Gruesome-Lug, even though she wasn't. So no point in rehashing all that stuff now, as far as I'm concerned."

The redhead wasn't entirely certain how to take that. "I see. So, uh, does that mean our friendship's over for good – or that we're okay now, as far as you're concerned?"

"I'm honestly not sure," Xander replied reflectively. "I mean, Willow, don't get me wrong – I don't hate you or anything, especially since you fixed my eye while I was sleeping. And I already said thanks to you for that yesterday; but since you can't remember it, kinda figured I oughta say it again now, ya know?"

"Well, uh, you're welcome," Willow said with a smile and a slight blush, before focusing on the rest of the sentence. "And you're not sure if we're okay now? Why not?"

"Willow – it's not that you guys lied to me about Cordy being in that coma, or at least not so much. It's the fact that she'd be a rotting corpse right now, if you people had gotten your own way and kept me completely ignorant about what had happened to her," Harris said, as his companion's expression became pale and withdrawn. "And yeah, guess it _**may**_ be hypocritical, since I lied about Angel way back when; but I still can't accept how you all lied to me because you thought I couldn't handle the truth. Not so soon after losing Anya, anyway."

"No, it's not that! I mean, we just thought..." Willow trailed off, not knowing how to finish the sentence without committing perjury.

Xander shook his head. "I know what you thought – and that's why I need to tell you a few things, Will."

"Like what?"

"Well...for starters, I'm not as fragile as glass. We've lost a lot of friends and family over the years, and yet I've still managed to keep it together; and often a lot better than other people, come to think of it. Tara being a good example, where you're concerned." He ignored Willow's shocked expression and added, "Plus, kinda funny – but during our last year of high school I started to be considered a powerless nobody, which only got worse as time went on. I mean, for the next four years, I pulled my own weight – even if just about the only noteworthy thing I managed to do, personally, was prevent my best friend from destroying the entire planet."

"No, no way! You di-"

"But one day, after Sunnydale was finally gone? I woke up from maybe the weirdest dream I ever had, and I decided to go searching for the truth," Xander kept on going, ignoring the interruption. "And after I found it, I decided not to care about the past anymore. I stopped giving a damn about whether I was as powerful or useful as other people involved in the Slayage. I stopped being concerned that my friends thought that I needed to be protected from all the crap that happened in this world. I stopped thinking about all of that, and I actually accomplished something worthwhile. And not a moment too soon, either – because Cordy would have died the next day if I hadn't undergone those trials for her, and taken her place in that coma."

Xander couldn't help noticing the tears that were now leaking out of Willow's eyes. "So please don't think that I hate you, Will – because I don't. It's just – well, we simply don't fit in each other's lives anymore. I don't fit into Giles or Buffy's life, either. In part because I don't need protection the way you people think I do, but also because I quit the Council back then, and I have no intention of ever working for it again."

"Not to mention, Cordelia wants you to stay here," Willow replied, wiping the moisture away from her eyes. "And you still have feelings for her. Deep down – you never quite fell out of love with her, did you? That's why you took her place in that coma. And that's the real reason why you're not gonna leave L.A., right?"

"Hard to say, Will," Xander said, looking troubled. "It really is." He came closer, looking down into her beautiful sea-green eyes. "Still, you could be right – because my original destiny? It was to stay with her for the rest of my life. Leave Sunnydale with my girlfriend after high school, as well as love, honor and cherish her 'til death do us part."

Willow nodded, finally getting her emotions back under control. "No clothes fluke, yeah, I remember Cordy and I discussing that – the day I restored your left peeper." She then frowned at his expression. "What? Mister, I know that look! I mean, is it Anya?"

"Naw, nowadays I've pretty much made my peace with her memory. It's just...Willow, fact is I was never supposed to meet any of the people I've encountered over the past five years. And I can't help thinking that that's important, somehow. I dunno why, but meeting people like Tara and Riley and...yeah, technically speaking, even Dawn-"

Xander abruptly cut himself off. There was something...something he could _**almost**_ remember, something that danced at the edge of his awareness, something that Harris instinctively knew was _**vital**_ –

But then, just like twenty-four hours ago, the floor of his hotel room started splitting apart as if hit by a giant earthquake, and then those weird demon creatures appeared in what had been the walls of the building, screaming as if in agonized pain...

* * *

**Xander's room, Angel Investigations**

**June 21****st****, 2004**

Xander woke up and bolted upright in bed, a loud grunt issuing forth from his lips. Well, at least this time it wasn't a girly scream. He looked around his room, and sure enough, the wheelchair was right there where he'd (mostly) expected it to be.

"Well, great. Guess it's Monday morning. Again," Xander muttered to himself, getting up and out of bed. He stretched and thought to himself, { _And that was obviously no nightmare, either. Hmm, gonna have to get Wes and Giles to research the earthquake and demon angle after all the explanations are out of the way, I guess. Better not mention the lie about Angel, though. Because I always thought that that conversation wouldn't ever serve any useful purpose, but now I have proof..._ }

As he got dressed, though, Xander could not help thinking about the chat he'd just had with Willow; a conversation which he was certain she would no longer have any memory of. Because for her, it wouldn't exist. It simply hadn't happened. Even if it had done for him.

Frowning, Harris couldn't help wondering if his oldest friend's accusations of still having loving feelings for his ex-girlfriend actually had merit –

{ _No. That's something I need to think about later, not now, _} Xander mused to himself, as he gave the wheelchair a semi-absent push that sent it rolling across the room and he quickly headed for the door. { _**Definitely**_ _something to think about, after all this is over._ }

And with that, the events of the previous day started all over again...

TBC...


	13. Xanderhog Day, Part Two

See Part One for disclaimer and details. Greetings and salutations to you, our audience, and welcome to the latest chapter of the story! Thanks as always to everyone who's been reviewing and sending feedback lately – because of you, this story has finally cracked the triple digit review barrier! There was a time we weren't sure that would happen, to be honest with you. But that was then and this was now, so time to get on with what you all came here for – the second part of our latest two-parter. Just remember – three words. Tension. Conflict. Argument. The characters are _**not**_ going to be playing nice here – and there _**will**_ be character death as well...

* * *

**Part Thirteen: Xanderhog Day, Part Two**

**Angel Investigations, Los Angeles**

**June 21****st****, 2004**

A soft bell chimed, and the elevator opened with Xander walking out into the lobby. Something which, as soon as Faith noticed it, made her rush over to where he was standing. "Hey, what are you doing? You know you're not supposed to be-"

"Morning, Faith. Today's Monday, right?" Harris interrupted the brunette smoothly.

"Yeah, so?" Faith asked in confusion.

Xander nodded, heading for the main check-in counter as the Slayer followed him. "We've got a problem. We're stuck in a time loop."

"We're _**what**_?"

"Yep. Believe it or not, roughly every sixteen hours, it's Monday morning all over again. Hasn't been going for long, though; it's only the second do-over, as far as I'm concerned," Harris shrugged, as he grabbed a pen and a piece of paper. He wrote down where Andrew could be located, and gave Faith the paper. "Here. Take Vi and go pick up Andrew; he was kidnapped on Sunday and interrogated with some kind of mystical truth drug. Wesley said it was, uh – something Latin, I don't remember what right now. Anyway, you'll find him crawling on the street, and thinking that he's living in the _Star Trek_ universe. Just ignore the guy if he starts ranting at you in Klingon; and if Andrew starts getting violent, knock him unconscious in the back seat of the car, and then bring him back here quick as you can."

"Huh?" Faith said, her jaw hanging open.

"Andrew. Needs rescuing. The world. Stuck in a time loop," Xander said slowly and clearly. "Ya know, it's weird – but you didn't seem to need this much convincing yesterday..."

"We've, uh, we've had this conversation before?" Faith was still struggling to come to grips with what she'd just heard, as her brain rebooted itself slightly.

"Yeah. Sort of. Okay – look, don't tell me what it is, but what's the first thing to come into your head about what would be the upside to this situation? Assuming for the sake of argument that I'm telling you the truth, which I totally am by the way."

"Uh...okay, done. But why did you wanna know?"

"Yesterday, my yesterday, you mentioned that it'd be groovy how you'll never have to worry about your breasts eventually succumbing to gravity. I figure odds are, exact same thought would occur to you today?" Xander asked with a slight smirk.

"Son of a bitch," Faith said in reply, looking at him in amazement. "You ain't kidding me, are you? Holy – we're neck-deep in some serious shit, it sounds like. And am I really that predictable?"

"Nah. It's just that I've got a really unfair advantage over you right now," Xander smirked again. "Anyway, you'd best get going. I'll see you when you get back, okay? Got to talk to Cordelia about this – again."

Xander leaned back on the counter and watched, as Faith grabbed Vi by the arm and the Slayers departed. A few seconds later Angel came out of Cordelia's office, spoke briefly with the blonde receptionist handling the phone lines, before he, too, exited the building. Taking that as his cue to visit the boss of Angel Investigations, Xander grabbed a broom and dustpan from behind the counter and knocked on Cordelia's door.

"Xander? What are you doing in here?" Cordelia demanded, after the guy walked in response to her summons. "And how did you know to bring that...?"

"Three things I need to tell you, Cor. One is, I've decided to stay here for a while, fix up this hotel properly – since the construction people you hired definitely skimped on quality work for some parts of the building. Two, Buffy and Willow and Giles are gonna show up later this morning, and based on prior experience? That meeting isn't gonna go well. And three, the world's stuck in a time loop, and far as I know, I'm the only one who can remember what's happened once the big reset takes place. So, you feeling okay after the big farewell scene with Angel?"

It wasn't often that Cordelia Chase had her thought processes completely derailed like this, and by Xander Harris of all people. But it had definitely happened now. "Wha – you – I – Angel...?"

"Yeah, see, you first told me what just happened in here two days ago, actually. Well, two days ago for _**me**_, anyway," Xander shrugged slightly, as he continued sweeping up the mess on the office floor. "Namely, Angel's gonna be leaving town soon, follow his son to the East Coast. Kinda funny, really; it's maybe the second thing the guy's ever done that's actually made me respect him."

"The second...?"

"First time was when Lord of the Brood _**finally**_ realized he was causing the Buffster nothing but pain – and he split from Sunnydale, once and for all," Xander nodded, recalling that particular Thanksgiving well.

"He – Buffy – hang on, wait! Wait, wait, wait just a goddamn minute!" Cordelia shouted, trying to force her brain to start working properly again. "Damn it, Dweeb Boy, what the hell?! Stop. Rewind. And get _**rid**_ of that damn smirk on your face!"

"What smirk?" Xander asked innocently, causing the brunette to growl – literally _**growl**_ – at him. "Okay, fine. Totally smirk-free zone here. Cross my heart and – no, not gonna complete that sentence. Otherwise, you'd kick my ass on general principles for jinxing myself like that."

"Damn right I would! Grrf. Auugh!" Cordelia growled, resisting an urge to grab the lamp off her desk and hurl it at his head. She also resisted the urge to run over and kiss the annoying asshole senseless, after seeing his eyes crinkle at her that way she'd always loved. Taking a deep breath, the Seer said slowly, "Now start again. What was that about a _**time loop?!**_"

Xander stopped sweeping up the remains of the broken vase, and turned to face her. "Well, hey; you've seen _Groundhog Day_, haven't you? Wes mentioned something about it yesterday, anyhow. Again, my yesterday. So, think of me as the real-life version of Phil Connors for this particular episode of – what did Faith call it? Xanderhog Day?"

"Oh dear God." Cordelia looked at her former boyfriend in rapidly escalating horror. Her brain had started firing on all cylinders again by this point, and she suddenly believed her ex-boyfriend's story completely. Nothing else made any sense, right at the moment. "So, how the _**hell **_did this happen? Did Angel-?"

"Nope. Captain Hair-gel swore he had nothing to do with it, no repeat of that thing with those, uh, Oracles, or whatever the hell they were called," Xander interrupted. "And since we're here this morning having this conversation, again, I believe him."

"Oh, geez...this is giving me a headache! All right, we can contact Fred, she might-" Cordelia started to say.

"Sorry, Cor, but we already tried that yesterday as well. She was sans clue, and couldn't come up with anything by the time the clock reset itself to eight o'clock this morning. Personally, I kinda doubt an extra hour or two is gonna make any difference; even though I guess it couldn't hurt to try," Xander shrugged.

"AGGHHH!" Cordelia unleashed a soft scream. She suddenly glared at Harris, "Damn you, Xander! You're actually _**enjoying**_ this, aren't you? You're getting off on telling me how my ideas are totally worthless! How long have we been trapped like this, anyway?"

"Not long. This is only the second go-around," Harris replied, his eyes narrowing. "And is that what you think I'm doing? I mean, I know you think I'm pretty much a dimwit sometimes – you've said it often enough – but Cordy, do you _**really **_think I'd do something like that? Take pleasure in something so stupid, and _**now**_ of all times?"

"Well..." Cordelia studied him for a long while, while managing to calm down. "No, damn it. I guess not."

"Damn straight I wouldn't. And besides, I know you're kind of on edge right now," Xander said understandingly, astonishing the Vision Girl. He added, "So, headache. Can I get you some Advil? Or would you prefer a neck massage?"

"Neck massage," Cordelia decided immediately, sitting on the edge of her office chair. She had trained him how to do that properly back when they were dating, after all. "And don't take this the wrong way, but please don't say anything else until I've had a chance to think about what you've just told me, all right? To process, somehow. Okay?"

"Okey-dokey. And no problem; I like the quiet," Xander flashed her another quick smirk.

"Be a cold day in Hell before we actually _**get**_ any in this city."

* * *

**Main lobby, Angel Investigations**

**A while later**

{ _Oh, geez,_ } Xander thought to himself, as he watched Melissa depart the building now that her job here was over (again). The doctor had already examined him, pronounced him as healthy as a horse, and left the detective agency a short while ago. { _My ass is totally doomed! _}

Harris knew that Cordelia was watching him carefully, because they'd had a 'moment' in her office during the neck massage he'd been administering to her. And that was due to the fact that he'd failed to keep a lid on all the memories of that other life he'd have spent together with her, which his shaman acquaintance had given to him in Zanzibar. All it had taken was just one moment where his mental defenses were down – and nearly eight decades' worth of alien memories had flashed through his mind, almost overwhelming him.

Alien memories of Cordelia Chase-Harris –

He remembered her as a radiant-looking bride, wearing white on their wedding day. As a glowing, proud mother, holding their two children in her arms. As a grandmother, still energetic and bustling, happy to look after the various grandkids Jesse and Joyce had gifted them with. Even as a great-grandmother, kissing him goodbye as he lay on his deathbed, promising him that they would be together again soon...

{ _So very, very doomed._ }

Well, okay, Xander had to admit – the concept of spending his life with his former honey wasn't exactly...repulsive. Cordelia had always been a hottie, and had only gotten more beautiful with the passing of time. And since coming out of the coma, he had seen for himself how the rough edges during their teenage years had been smoothed away, leaving visible the good person that, deep down, had always been there.

But the reality was that they had broken up over five years ago, and moved on since high school. They hadn't been in contact since then, apart from the occasional letter and email. And Harris thought it might be a mistake for them to get back together now, just like that, simply because they could both remember what their lives would have been like under different circumstances –

{ _Even though Dawn certainly doesn't seem to think that, _} Xander thought ruefully, heading back to Cordelia's private office as she followed him close behind. { _Betcha she really thinks I'm a complete idiot, right about now._ }

"What are you thinking?" Cordelia's voice penetrated Xander's mind, once they were alone inside the office.

"Dawn," Xander replied, turning to face the Seer. "And the fact that she thinks I'm a complete ass."

"Gee, I wonder why she'd think that?" Cordelia raised a perfectly-plucked eyebrow.

"You _**know **_why," Xander replied, sending her an exasperated look. "Geez. Did you know that back in junior year, Dawnie told me that if I wasn't gonna marry her, that I should darn well marry you instead? Or at least, I remember her saying that," he said self-consciously. "It's real easy to forget how Dawn sorta just...popped into existence, four years ago. I..."

"What?" Cordelia asked, as Xander trailed off. "What's wrong?"

"There's something...I can't quite remember it, even though I've been trying my damnedest since the time loop started. I just _**know**_ it's something important," Harris said vaguely, trying but failing to force himself to remember what it was.

"Well, I always knew you were deficient in some areas," the Seer smirked playfully at him.

"Me? I'm deficient? What about you?"

"ME?" In an instant, the playfulness was gone. "You mind explaining that crack, mister?"

"Well, you _**were**_ dumb enough to buy into what that asshole Skip was trying to sell you that night, remember?" Xander shrugged. "I mean, that '_you've become a higher being_' line he used on you? Yeah, right, as if..."

Cordelia was instantly enraged. "Why, you...you...prick!"

Xander simply couldn't help it; he slipped back into old habits just like that. "Well, at least I'm not a complete bitca, like someone we both know..."

"Freakin' asshole!"

"No-good snob!"

"You're a complete moron!"

"And you're a complete shrew!"

"Auugh! You, you two-timing dickhead!"

"Well, at least I'm not some brazen hussy!"

"You take that back, you lousy bastard!"

"Who, me? Have you forgotten that I was at my parents' wedding?"

"Uggh! You fuckwit!"

"Hey, now that's hitting below the belt! Because different circumstances, I would have worked in show biz long before you did!"

"You-! _**That never happened!**_ Because you never came for me in L.A., the way you damn well should have!" Cordelia hissed at him. "I waited for nearly a month, after we parted company – but you. Never. Came!"

"Well, newsflash, honey; but you made it pretty damn clear you didn't _**want**_ me to come looking for you, once my road trip was over! That our last conversation that summer was just that – our last conversation!" Harris yelled at her, all the amusement gone in an instant.

"Oh, sure, and you actually believed that? After we kept in touch by letters and even the occasional email, for _**years**_ afterwards?" Cordelia snarled at him. "Oh ye gods, what the hell was I thinking? Deep down, you're still that pathetic acne-faced loser who was incredibly lucky that I ever let touch me!"

"And deep down you're still that stuck-up bitchy ice queen, who insisted on waiting 'til Prom Night before we had sex!"

"OOOH! Xander Harris, I hate you!" Cordelia's face tilted up slightly, so that she could glare directly into his eyes.

"I _**hate**_ you too!" Xander yelled, not caring that his voice could probably be heard all the way out to the parking lot now.

And then, like what had happened long ago, in a basement that no longer existed – Harris abruptly surrendered to primal male instincts. He reached around Cordelia's waist and pulled her in close, and captured her lips with his own.

"Mmmph!" Cordelia stiffened in outrage for a brief, endless moment, but then she grabbed him tightly as well. Quickly opening her mouth, and attempting to mine for tonsils.

{ _Oh geez, _} Xander thought vaguely, { _she always did kiss better when she was completely pissed off... _}

It felt like the most natural thing in the world, too, memories of being together this way for _**decades**_ guiding their actions as Cordelia's tongue worked frantically against his. Xander then picked her up with his hands cupped around her ass, and her legs instinctively went around his waist as he backed her up against the wall. They continued sucking face for many passionate minutes, groping and grunting and coming close to dry-humping, until...

"What the _**hell?!**_" Buffy's loud, surprised voice suddenly echoed throughout the office, as she, Willow and Giles entered the room – after getting tired of the lack of a response to their knocking on Cordelia's door.

* * *

**Cordelia's office, Angel Investigations**

**A few moments later**

"What in God's name are _**you**_ doing in here?!" Cordelia abruptly yelled at the Slayer, after Xander let her down and she was standing on her own two feet again. Clothes wrinkled, hair mussed, and her cherry-red lipstick completely smudged, the head of Angel Investigations nonetheless still cut an imposing figure as she glared at the new arrivals. "What? You people have never heard of _**knocking**_ before entering someone else's office?"

"Uh, we did. Knock, that is. More than once. But, but, but you didn't reply – and, uh, then we heard a weird noise, so we sorta just assumed..." Willow replied, looking horribly embarrassed.

"You assumed what?" Xander asked curiously.

"Well, certainly not _**this**_," Buffy said judgmentally, eyeing him up and down. "I mean, geez, Xander, you've been out of that coma for barely three days – and already, your hormones are in charge of your actions again?"

"HEY!" Cordelia growled at her automatically. "That's rich, coming from someone like you!"

"And what's _**that **_supposed to mean?" Buffy growled.

"Does the name 'The Immortal' ring any bells for you, Buffy? I mean, why else would any woman in her right mind want to date _**that**_ creep?" Cordelia riposted.

"Ladies, c'mon, please! No need to fight like this," Xander said, trying to play peacemaker. "Besides, we've got other problems, remember?"

"Other problems?" Giles spoke up. "What, um, w-w-what are you talking about, son?"

"I'm not your 'son', _**Rupert**_," Xander sent him an unfriendly look, which stunned the Englishman. "For one thing, you're not my father – plus I don't work for you anymore, so you don't get to call me that. Truth is, your patronizing crap annoys the shit out of me. Always has, always will."

"Hey, don't you talk to Giles like that!" Buffy instinctively yelled at him, growing angry.

"Why not? 'Cause he fucked up, even though he was supposed to be older and wiser than the rest of us," Xander said with a slight growl, making the former librarian blanch. The annoyance suddenly skyrocketing, just like it had when he'd blurted out the truth regarding Angel's soul curse during the previous go-around, Harris added, "God damn it, Buffy, Giles lied to me about Cordelia. Directly to my face. Just like you. Just like Willow. Just like frickin' everybody, apart from Dawn!"

"But, but we were just trying to-" Willow started to say, tears in her eyes as Giles and Buffy looked aside uncomfortably.

"I KNOW! You wanted to protect me, thinking it was for my own good! Which, when I found out, pissed me off so much..." Xander groaned loudly, suddenly feeling drained. "Great googley-moogley, why doesn't this ever get any easier? It's the third time we've had this goddamn conversation, after all..."

"Er, what?" Giles said, still feeling off-balance from the unexpected rant.

"You tell 'em. I'm tapped," Xander asked Cordelia, going around the desk and sitting down in her chair.

"Hey! Feet _**off**_ of my desk!" Cordelia crossly shoved at his legs, before turning back to face the new arrivals. "And what the big dweeb here means is that, apparently – well, we're caught up in some kinda time loop."

"Huh?" Willow demanded, before understanding what that meant a moment later. "Seriously?"

"Feels like it's Wednesday to me, the day keeps repeating every sixteen hours," Xander said succinctly. "And I'm the only one who remembers. Don't ask me why, I don't have a clue."

"Really?" Buffy said, looking doubtful.

"I don't suppose you, uh, you have any proof of all this, other than just your word on the, um, matter?" Giles asked hesitantly.

"Proof? No. But like I said, this is the third time we're having this conversation," Xander said, calming down a bit from the heated exchange a few seconds ago. "That's how I know you left Wesley's father in charge of the Council, even if you're not sure if that was the smartest course of action. That's how I know Buffy and Willow were planning to drag my ass back to England, even though there ain't a snowball's chance in Hell of _**that**_ happening. And that's how I know Dawn doesn't have a clue you three have come to town, you weren't sure how she'd react to her sister's presence. How'm I doin' so far?"

"A, uh, a-a little too well," Giles replied, now convinced of the truth; just like Willow and Buffy. "Good Lord..."

The Slayer suddenly looked like she had an epiphany. "Oh! Wait – don't tell me Andrew's decided to relive his glory days as a member of the nerd herd? Uh, you haven't seen any evil mummy hands around here lately, have you?"

"What? And no, it isn't him," Cordelia replied, looking confused for a moment. "Well, at least not according to the doofus here, anyway."

"Yeah. Huh, kinda surprised Faith and Vi haven't come back with that guy yet," Xander mused, before looking at his watch. "Then again, it might have taken a while for good ol' Lieutenant Commander Wells to actually show up where I sent them..."

"What?" "Huh?" Buffy and Willow said in unison, looking at Harris like he'd grown an extra head.

"Xander said Andrew was kidnapped yesterday and interrogated with some kinda mystical drug that left him thinking he's Mr. Woof, or Mr. Wharf, or whatever his name is – that alien guy from _Star Trek_," Cordelia said with a slight shrug.

"Hey, don't look at me like that – it's not _**my**_ fault what goes on inside Andrew's subconscious!" Xander defended himself, in response to the looks that the trio of new arrivals sent him.

"Yeah. Your subconscious has got its own problems, from what I saw when I was inside your head back then," Cordelia smirked.

Xander opened his mouth to reply – when yet again, he was struck by the feeling that there was something he ought to be able to remember, but couldn't. Something _**vital**_. The conversation continued without him, as Harris racked his brain to try to remember what it was – but without success.

All Harris could come up with was that it had something to do with...with Dawn –

* * *

**Secret location, Los Angeles**

**Later that night**

Xander groaned, feeling a lump on his head the size of a golf ball. { _Oh geez. What the hell happened?_ }

The memories slowly started trickling back into his conscious mind. There had been talking – lots of talking with lots of different people, throughout the day.

Talking with Cordelia about where they now stood; and her sickening realization that if they couldn't fix the problem, then everything that had happened between them today would cease to exist, once the next go-around got started.

Talking with Willow about what was the what between him and Cordy, which had almost been a repeat of the late-night conversation they'd had yesterday.

Talking with Giles, who (in an attempt to make up for the whole 'son' thing) had come up with a theory that, since his soul had travelled to the Higher Realms in order to ask the Powers to save Cordelia from her fate, it might now be 'detachable' – in the sense that it could go back in time during every temporal reset, and carry his memories and consciousness with it.

Talking with Buffy, which had quickly degenerated into yet another argument. One that didn't end well for anyone concerned.

Talking with Wesley. Talking with Faith. Talking with Vi, Rona and Shannon. Damn, just about everyone within the detective agency seemed to be a complete chatterbox, during this particular go-around –

But most important of all, deciding to bite the bullet and go talk to Dawn.

"Xander? XANDER! Are you okay?" Dawn's voice almost thundered in his ear, making Harris flinch – before he suddenly realized he was lying spread-eagled on the ground beside her, hands and feet tied to four iron poles that had been pounded deep into the earth.

"Dawn-? Wha' happen?" Xander asked muzzily, still not completely awake yet.

"That's what I'd like to know," a male voice with a British accent said, its owner coming into view – which made Xander have a flashback to earlier that evening.

He remembered the British mage saying something in Latin, incanting some sort of spell – and then it was like the world simply didn't make sense anymore. To Xander's mind, it was as if he was seeing a different reality superimposed on the one he knew – he could see Cordelia and their children and their would-have-been residence in New York, even though at the same time he could also see Ethan attempting to drag the unconscious Dawn away.

Too bad his eyesight was so messed up from the two realities superimposed on one another that Rayne had easily been able to dodge the attempted punch to the head, and knock him out cold afterwards –

"Ah, hello again. We _**do **_seem to keep meeting in the oddest places, don't we Mr. Harris?" Ethan said, with that detestable, smarmy grin on his face. "And as I said, I'd like to know exactly what happened earlier on. How precisely did you manage to resist my clementia nigrum spell? No one's ever been able to do that before. Not even your charming little witch."

"You're talking about Willow, right?" Harris asked.

"Ah, yes, that's her name," Ethan nodded, before his eyes narrowed. "Hmm. So, tell me if I've guessed correctly – your left eye. When last I saw you in that hospital's coma ward, it was missing, and you were sporting quite the delightful Cyclopean look. Now it's back, albeit not in the same color as your right eye...ah. Am I correct in assuming that in addition to fixing the ocular damage, your ginger-haired friend decided to add in a few unexpected...surprises?"

"Probably not on purpose," Xander replied evenly. "But it wouldn't surprise me if you're right. Magic tends to have, uh, unexpected consequences around me; and Willow did have to use her mojo, at least somewhat, in order to do what she did."

"Ah. Well, I suppose that answers that. Lovely," Ethan nodded, the smarmy grin vanishing. "Unfortunately for you, however, that means there's no reason for me to keep you alive any longer. So I'd suggest you behave, until my work is done. Otherwise, it won't end well for you at all."

"What are you doing?" Dawn spoke up again at last, as Ethan started to paint his elaborate circle-seal design, with a six-point star circle inside. She tried to keep the fear out of her voice, but didn't succeed very well.

"My dear Key, what makes you think I'm going to act like a clichéd movie villain, and reveal my secrets to you?" Rayne asked her, with a small grin appearing on his lips. "So all I'll say is that H. Arthur Jones described it best: 'O God! Put back Thy universe, and give me yesterday'..."

At that moment, oddly enough, something in Xander's brain just went _**click**_.

He _**finally **_figured out what it was he'd been trying to remember since the time loop had started; that dream he'd had, just before the coma had ended, and which suddenly exploded into his conscious mind. That conversation with Shaman Bond, Jeeves and Dawn – or at least, something that had _**looked**_ like them – suddenly started to make sense, at long last.

"It's you. _**You're**_ the one responsible for all this!" Xander suddenly growled, as both Ethan and Dawn turned their heads to look at him. "You're planning some sort of time travel stunt, aren't you? Ethan Rayne. The Key. Time. What were you planning to do, bleed Dawnie to try to open up some sort of gateway to the past?"

"How did you know that?" Ethan asked him in a very still, quiet voice, as Dawn gasped in horror.

"I had a dream," Xander replied cryptically. "What I don't get is _**why**_, God damn it! What were you hoping to achieve by doing that?"

"Dream? Ah, interesting. And who else knows about this dream?" Ethan inquired, attempting to appear nonchalant and not answering the question.

"Everybody!" Dawn said defiantly, even as Xander opened his mouth to reply. "That's why my sister and my friends will figure out while you're up to, and be here soon to stop you. So you may as well just cut your losses, and run for it while you still can!"

Ethan cocked his head slightly, before unleashing a loud belly-laugh. "Oh, very good. You almost had me there for a moment, little miss! But unfortunately, that's not an option even if I did believe you. I'm just about out of time, after all."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Xander demanded.

Ethan looked back at him, studying him carefully. Deciding to abandon the whole secrecy thing, the Englishman eventually replied, "My soul shall soon cease to exist, thanks to a soul-scraping spell I performed in order to escape my prison, and afterwards I'll die. So my only chance is to travel back in time, you see, and prevent myself from ever becoming a prisoner of the Initiative in the first place. Or, failing that, go back to when I first fragmented my soul, and seek help from a certain shaman to prevent my untimely demise."

Xander stared at him, almost unable to believe what he'd heard. By this point in his life, while he was no expert on such things...he knew that any ritual capable of splitting a human soul was bad news. Make that horrible, ugly news. Such a thing was – had to be – even worse than those magicks which cursed a vampire with a soul!

His African friend, Mohamed, had once told him that a human being's soul was sacred; as it was the creation of Allah, or God, or whatever Name you cared to use. So you didn't mess around with it. You just _**didn't**_.

"The Initiative?" Xander eventually said, something abruptly bugging him about that part of it.

"Yes, you remember those people, don't you?" Ethan asked merrily. "If memory serves, your little group was quite friendly with one of them, the Slayer's oafish boyfriend-"

"You were the one who killed Riley in Anaheim, weren't you?" Xander cut him off, making an intuitive leap thanks to his subconscious working overtime on the subject.

"Oh dear, I'd best watch out. You're going to learn _**all**_ my secrets, at this rate," Ethan tsk'ed in annoyance, ignoring Dawn's fresh gasp of horror.

"You wanna talk secrets, how about this one? It isn't gonna work," Harris said, maintaining eye contact with Rayne from his trapped position. "Pretty sure you won't believe me, but what you're planning to do with Dawn, it won't work."

Ignoring Ethan's look of increasingly impatient annoyance, Xander added, "What the hell, British guy, it _**didn't**_ work-"

Unfortunately, the loud roar of a gunshot prevented Xander from saying anything else, as the entire universe exploded into agonizing pain before it suddenly went black.

* * *

**Xander's room, Angel Investigations**

**June 21****st****, 2004**

Xander woke up and bolted upright in bed, gasping loudly. He remembered getting shot, he remembered the pain from getting shot and _**killed**_ by that goddamn bastard –

"All right, that's it," Xander growled to himself, leaping up out of bed and reaching for his clothes. { _No more Mr. Nice Guy!_ }

The wheelchair banged hard into the wall thanks to a savage kick he delivered upon it, serving as a convenient outlet for Xander's anger. He quickly got dressed and left the room, but this time around, he took the stairs instead of using the elevator. No point in having Faith come rushing over once he reached the lobby, demanding to know why he wasn't sitting down and playing Roller Boy for everyone's peace of mind. Xander knew he was _**way**_ too pissed off to play nice with the ignorant schlubs right now.

{ _Low profile, damn it! Don't let anyone see you!_ }

By the time he arrived on the ground floor, luckily, he had mostly calmed down. Harris avoided the crowd of people in the lobby as he left the building via one of the side exits, before making his way to the parking lot up front. { _Now then, what should I...ooh, me like! _}

Deciding to help himself to someone's SUV, Xander was grateful to discover the keys hidden behind the sun visor. The motor came to life with a loud roar, before Harris quickly drove out of the lot and onto Osgood Boulevard, heading straight for Spike's apartment. Thanks to what he'd learned during one of the previous go-arounds, he knew that that was where Dawn was right now.

{ _Okay. At least now we're getting somewhere, in terms of actually fixing this mess,_ } Xander cogitated to himself, increasing speed in order to get to his destination ASAP. { _I know the who, the why, and the how. And I __**owe**__ you for that lump on the back of my head, dude..._ }

So caught up was the young man in his revenge fantasies, that he paid no attention to the car which was attempting to run a red light at an intersection – before said vehicle slammed into the side of the SUV with a horrifying crunch, and a squeal of tires.

Xander's world momentarily dissolved into horrible, agonizing pain. Even worse than that from Ethan's gunshot. And then, once again, the entire universe went black –

* * *

**Xander's room, Angel Investigations**

**June 21****st****, 2004**

Xander woke up and bolted upright in bed, unleashing a loud yelp. "Oh, son of a _**bitch!**_"

He'd been killed. Again.

He'd failed. Again.

Head hurting with phantom pain, thanks to the memory of that Lincoln Town Car crashing into it, Xander then had the nightmarish feeling that, somehow, all this would never end.

That something would _**always**_ go wrong, before he could stop the bad guy once and for all. That he would _**always**_ fail, or screw up somehow. That Ethan fucking Rayne would _**always **_bleed Dawn in order to do that damn ritual of his, trapping them in this damned time loop forever –

{ _There's always a way, sir. There are always options. The temptation will be there to simply give up. And I suspect there will come a point, when that will seem to you like the only choice left,_ } Jeeves' voice suddenly seemed to speak up in his mind, reminding Xander of their conversation within that black mindscape.

Reminding him of the subtle warning not to give into complete despair.

{ _Okay, fine, _} Xander then thought to himself, calming down and quickly pulling himself together. { _I'm not gonna give up. Hey, even J.C. had his moment of doubt and pain way back when, right? Especially when the universe seems totally out to get you, the good old-fashioned way; sideways, and without lube!_ }

Harris exhaled, loudly. { _Maybe I'm going about this all wrong? Trying to change too much, too quickly. Yeah, I bet that's it – Jeeves did say that 'subtlety is key', after all. Fate, or Destiny, or whatever you wanna call it...it responds like a PMS'ing Slayer when you try to fuck up its plans. So, maybe what I should do is just go with the flow, and focus. Like Jeeves said, all I gotta do is change one small, specific thing, and then all the other specifics can change as well. Only question is, what exactly should I change – and when? _}

Suddenly, Alexander LaVelle Harris smiled. And it was not a nice smile...

TBC...


	14. What Will Be, Doesn't Have To Be

See Part One for disclaimer and details. Welcome to the latest chapter of the fanfic! As always, we owe big-time thanks to everybody who's sent in reviews and feedback: we have been, are, and will continue to be grateful for it. You provide the inspiration for us to keep going with the writing! But having said that, it's time to start wrapping this story up – there's just this, the penultimate chapter, and one more to go. So please tell us what you think of...

* * *

**Part Fourteen: What Will Be, Doesn't Have To Be**

**Outside the new Angel Investigations agency, Osgood Boulevard**

**June 21****st****, 2004**

Cursing under his non-existent breath, Spike grabbed the heavy blanket from the back seat of his car. Covering himself up as best he could, the ensouled vampire then got out of the vehicle, slammed the car door shut and then ran for the front doors of the building as fast as his legs could carry him.

To be honest, Spike wasn't really sure why he was here. He'd gotten a call from Harris, telling him that they needed to talk. Ordinarily, he would have just hung up after a choice insult, but then the bloody git had mentioned Dawn's name – and bugger it, but that was a trump card both men knew that Spike couldn't ignore. So here he was, cursing and smoking slightly, but nonetheless present inside the detective agency.

{ _All right, Harris, where the flamin' hell are you?_ } William the Bloody thought grouchily, looking around the lobby. Place looked ridiculously crowded for a Monday morning, too. { _C'mon, where's – ah, hang on!_ }

"Oy! Slayer – uh, Faith," Spike hastily corrected himself, as _**way **_too many heads turned in his direction. He walked up to the brunette in question and demanded, "Where's the glorified bricklayer?"

"You talkin' about Xander, Spike?" Faith raised an eyebrow. "Or do you prefer 'dust pile'?"

"Yeah, whatever," Spike said impatiently, ignoring the threat. "Look, ya know where he is or not? I got things ta do today, so I don't wanna waste any more of my time around 'ere th'n I absolutely have to!"

"Cordelia's office, last I saw," Faith gestured with her head. "They were in a meeting-"

"Right, thanks," Spike interrupted her, already moving towards the office in question.

"Hey, Spike? Ya might not wanna go in there," the second oldest Slayer shrugged, staring at William the Bloody's departing back.

"Why not?" Spike tossed over his shoulder, not bothering to stop or even slow down.

"Him and Queen C have got visitors."

The peroxide-blond vampire, quite frankly, didn't give two hoots about that. He just wanted to get this over with, and find out what the useless wanker wanted to tell him about the Nibblet. Knocking once on the door and not even waiting for a reply, Spike strode into Cordelia's office –

And found himself staring at Giles, Willow and most important of all, Buffy.

"Oh, _**sodding hell**_..."

* * *

**Cordelia's office, Angel Investigations**

**A moment later**

Xander did his best to keep the smirk off his face, as Spike barged into the room and then stopped dead (pun fully intentional) at the sight of Buffy. He tried, he really did try to keep his face 110% smirk-free. The best he could manage was about 98%, though, as the situation really was that funny; and through no real fault of his own.

After waking up for the latest go-around earlier this morning, Xander had decided to follow his plan of being 'subtle' about the situation. Thus, he hadn't done anything different so far to what had happened during the original Monday in question, apart from phoning Spike as soon as Angel had left the building.

Seriously. He'd just listened as Cordelia had told him that Angel had quit his job, and was planning to head east with Connor and his son's girlfriend. He'd used the wheelchair until the doctor had given him the okay to stand up on his own two feet again. He'd bidden farewell to Melissa the nurse like he'd done the first time, and he'd gone into Cordelia's office along with everyone else and listened as Buffy and Willow had started on their speech. The one where he was going to come back to England with them, and they were going to take care of him from now on.

Luckily, they hadn't gotten very far when Spike had barged into the room and then uttered his classic comment...

"Hey, Spike. Wasn't expecting you 'til later," Xander said, shrugging slightly.

"You invited _**him**_ here?" Cordelia demanded, looking at Harris suspiciously. "Why?"

"Wanted to talk to the guy about Dawn," Xander replied, shrugging again. "Figured she might listen to him instead of me, y'know, since she's so pissed at me right now."

Spike was paying no attention to the conversation; he was focused entirely on the woman he loved. "Buffy, I-"

"No. Please don't make this any harder than it has to be, Spike," the blonde Slayer interrupted, looking uncomfortable. "Look, I know you still have feelings for me – but like I've said before, that doesn't matter. I'm with someone else now."

"That ponce, the Immortal?!" Spike snarled, fighting the desire to go into vamp face and just barely succeeding.

"Watch it, William. That's my boyfriend you're talking about," Buffy growled in reply.

"Boyfriend?! That bloody pedophile is just using you, luv! Don't you ruddy understand, he-" Spike's rant was abruptly cut off, as the Summers woman grabbed him by the neck and slammed him against the wall. "Urk-!"

"Don't," Buffy told the vampire warningly. "For old time's sake, I'm gonna pretend that I didn't hear that. But you call my honey that again, and I'll tear your head off. No – first I'll rip your convenient carrying handle out by the roots! The one located down south, if ya know what I mean?"

Again, Spike fought the urge to go into vamp face as Buffy let him go and he rotated his neck a bit. "You _**have**_ changed, haven't you, luv? Time was, you weren't this afraid of the truth. Guess that immortal berk really does have you completely dazzled, eh? Cor blimey, not even Dru took this long ta see through his act..."

"What are you talkin' about?" Buffy demanded of her ex-lover.

Spike shrugged. "The Immortal. Every time he shows up in my unlife, I either lose my girl, get hunted by an angry mob, or get thrown in prison for tax evasion-"

"No, I meant that crack about the truth! What truth?" the blonde Slayer demanded angrily.

Spike stared at her. "Don't tell me ya didn't know? Bloody hell, that immortal git's been around a long time. He's seen and done everything, he's even had his own harem of women more than once. And way I heard, some of 'em were as young as eleven or twelve years old..."

"What?!" Giles, Willow and Cordelia all exclaimed at the same time.

"YOU'RE LYING!" Buffy yelled, looking shocked – and lethally angry.

"No, I'm not," Spike said softly. "Look, ya have ta understand, things were different back then. I mean, nobody _**approved**_ of it, but in some places? Being a king, or even a liege lord, meant that you could do pretty much whatever you wanted with the kiddies-"

"Shut up, Spike. I don't want to hear your _**lies**_ any longer," Buffy interrupted harshly, her eyes almost glowing with volcanic fire, and looking like she was barely preventing herself from staking the ensouled vampire.

"M'not lying. Just telling you what I heard hundred-odd years ago, luv," Spike replied, shaking his head. "I'll grant you, gossip was that the bloody arse never actually forced himself on any of his brats. Still, reckon he never needed to – competition being what it is, them little girls woulda been climbing into his lap soon as their bodies started up their monthly cycle. Or maybe even earlier, for the more determined ones – not like that sort had anything else going for them, izzit? Can ask Rupert what life was really like for harem women back then, fer sure he'll tell you it wasn't what you'll see on the bleeding History Channel-"

"SHUT UP, SPIKE!" Buffy screamed, before drawing her stake – but then she angrily stalked out of Cordelia's office, after throwing the weapon down to the floor in a violent rage. Willow and Giles followed after her, looking concerned; a moment later, Cordelia followed after them. Leaving Spike alone with Xander.

"Gee, that was real smooth, Spike," Xander smirked at him. "Been reading that book on how to win friends and influence people lately, huh?"

"Up yours, Harris," Spike replied heatedly, turning around and beginning to head for the office door himself.

"I wouldn't chase after her yet, if I were you," Xander drawled, as Spike turned to stare back at him. "She's madder than hell right now, and Buffy's not gonna listen to anything you have to say. Take it from someone who's been there – I mean, there was a reason I never mentioned any of that stuff to Slay-gal during our last meeting in Rome!"

"You knew?" Spike narrowed his eyes at once.

"Sure. Some of the old Council's records survived the big boom thanks to that asshole Caleb, and I collected myself a few sources before I quit the Watchers. Hey, some people – and demons – are, like, born to gossip," Xander shrugged. "But that's kinda irrelevant right now. You and me, we got other things to be concerned about."

"You're talkin' about the platelet, right? M'not your bloody go-between, Harris. Why should I help you?" Spike demanded scornfully.

"Because deep down, you're not like Angel."

"Eh? What's that s'posed to mean, then?"

"Exactly what it sounds like," Xander said patiently. "Think about it, Spike. Way I see it, that guy didn't do any of his life- or world-saving stuff simply because it was the right thing to do...Angel did it all to score points with either the Powers or a girl, or provide for his kid when Connor was just a baby, or to keep his crew close to him."

A shrug. "But you? Looked after Dawn, went out on patrol with the old Sunnydale gang, and even covered for Ahn at the Magic Box once or twice. Sure, most of the time, you did what you did in order to get into Buffy's panties – don't even _**think**_ I've forgotten about the attempted rape – but much as I hate to admit it, you actually helped out that summer while the Buffster was dead, without looking for any sort of reward."

Harris drew in a deep breath. "That's why I'm hoping you'll do the right thing again now. Find Dawn after sundown, and talk to her. Help her get over the anger that she's got going, as a favor to me, Dawn – and even Buffy."

Spike stared hard at him, and then swept out of the office without a word.

* * *

**UCLA campus, Los Angeles**

**Later that night**

Xander kept to the shadows, maintaining sufficient distance from Spike and Dawn that the human would remain unaware of his presence – even if Harris was sure that the vampire knew he was following them. That telltale smirk and eye-roll he'd seen earlier had been all the proof he needed to be sure of it.

The day hadn't passed quickly, or at least not quickly enough for his liking. But keeping to the plan he had established at the start of this go-around, Xander had visited the same bank he'd gone to on Monday Prime, and he'd also conducted the same inspection of the hotel he'd done back then. He'd told Cordelia of his decision to stay in Los Angeles, and even watched _While You Were Sleeping_ with Vi and her sister Slayers again.

About the only thing he'd done different (apart from calling Spike) was helping Wesley figure out that Andrew was missing. Hey, the guy was a twerp, and had willingly been part of the 'conspiracy' concerning Cordelia – but Anya had died fighting alongside him. Plus, Wells was also a fellow comic book enthusiast, and Klingon speaker. Not enough of them in this world.

So, business as usual – before heading out to find Dawn and Spike. It had been tempting to bring Faith along for tonight's adventure – having a super-powered hot-looking chick at his side _**did**_ make for a nice ace in the hole – but in the end, Xander had decided against it. One, because Faith didn't do 'subtle' very well; and two, if anything went wrong, Gunn would kill him if his girlfriend ended up hurt or dead.

And not to be squeamish, but he'd already done that thing twice and had no desire to break Buffy's record on coming back from the dead.

{ _Come on, Ethan,_ } Xander thought to himself, clutching the baseball bat he'd purchased earlier from a pawn shop. { _I know you're out there somewhere, buddy boy. So show yourself, already! We both know you're running out of time, here..._ }

True enough; and so, eventually and inevitably, the mage appeared to kidnap Dawn as part of his dastardly plan. To which end, Rayne hit Dawn and Spike with his favorite spell to incapacitate his targets – the 'clementia nigrum'.

"Buffy," Spike murmured, immediately lost in a daze as he saw nothing but his true heart's desire in front of him.

"Mom," Dawn echoed, likewise lost in a vision of the long-dead Joyce Summers.

By this point, Xander was already in action. Slipping his old black patch over his eye – his _**right**_ eye – he ran towards Dawn and Spike and Ethan, determined not to let the British wizard escape with his prize.

No frickin' way. Not again. _**Never**_ again.

Ethan became aware of Xander's running footsteps when Harris was less than fifteen feet away. Smirking slightly, Rayne then chanted in Latin, "See with your heart!" before waiting for the man to be overcome by the spell; the same way Spike and Dawn had been.

The shock and horror on Ethan's face when it didn't work, when a grim-faced Xander kept running straight at him, lifting the baseball bat and hitting him directly in the face – knocking the sorcerer out cold – had to be seen to be believed.

"Spike? SPIKE! Snap out of it!" Xander yelled at the ensouled vampire. When that didn't work, Harris shrugged and – possibly taking a bit too much pleasure in the act – slugged William the Bloody right in the face, making the undead guy fall flat on his back.

"OW! What the bloody-" Spike spluttered, trying to figure out what had just happened as he struggled to get up.

"Come on, Spike, get up! Dawn's still out of it," Xander barked out, as he yanked off the eye-patch and threw it away.

"Wot? Ah, bollocks!" Spike cursed, as he witnessed the Slayer's sister talking to – her mum, from the sounds of it. "What the bloody hell happened?"

"Magic trance spell," Xander replied, picking up Ethan's body and putting it over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. "Had to punch you in order to make you wake up, but I sure as hell don't wanna have to do that for Dawnie."

"Yeah...oh, cripes! Come on, Li'l Bit, snap out of it!" Spike said urgently, focusing entirely on the girl and not even noticing as Xander walked away with the unconscious Ethan. "Listen, I don't want to hafta use force..."

* * *

**Angel Investigations, Los Angeles**

**A while later**

Giles sighed as he entered the international dialing code, and then the digits for the number to the Council's London headquarters into the phone. For security purposes, he had them memorized instead of stored on paper. He couldn't understand why overseas numbers had to have so many digits, though. Good Lord, had it been set up that way simply so you'd have more chances to misdial?

Hmmm, possibly. The telecommunication companies had to make a profit somehow, after all.

{ _Blast. For heaven's sake, Pryce, why won't you pick up the bloody phone?_ } Giles thought to himself in annoyance, after Wesley's father failed to answer. { _Damn it all, but I should never even have come on this idiotic junket in the first place..._ }

Giles hung up, briefly wondering if he felt that way because of the feelings of guilt over deliberately withholding information about Cordelia from Xander. The head Watcher hadn't missed the boy's hostile stare after he, Willow and Buffy had arrived here, which spoke volumes about how low an opinion Xander had of him right now.

Earlier today, Rupert had figured out that if the Chase girl had died back then, Xander might have done a lot more than just quit the Council as soon as he'd found out the truth. Exactly how far the youth would have gone, had he been as enraged over Cordelia's death as Giles himself had been when Angelus had murdered Jenny Calendar – well, that was something Rupert much preferred not to dwell on. It helped him to be able to sleep at nights.

{ _Bloody hell,_ } Giles sighed to himself, not wanting to acknowledge that Cordelia's welfare simply hadn't been a high priority with him, but unable to help doing so. He was a busy man, yes. But as tightly associated as she had been with Angel – tarred with same brush as it were – it was also way too easy for him to put the girl out of his mind as Someone Else's Problem. Unfortunately, he knew that not everyone saw it that way –

"Mr. Giles?" Wesley's voice called out, before the door opened and the Watcher stuck his inside the room.

"What is it, Wesley?"

"I thought you'd like to know, Andrew has finally been stabilized," Wes reported as he came into private room. "I'm afraid the veritas root extract won't be out of his system until at least tomorrow, though. It makes questioning him impossible until then, unfortunately."

Giles exhaled again. { _Bloody wonderful._ } "Did you, uh, a-at least find out what language he was shouting and ranting in earlier, by a-any chance?"

"Yes, oddly enough. Rona said he was speaking in Klingon," Wes smirked briefly.

"Good grief," Giles muttered, even though he was hardly surprised that his former aide would bother learning a language from a cheap science-fiction TV show like that. And he would have said more, but at that moment Willow teleported into the room.

"Guy, guys, we got a problem! Like, like imminent war type problem!" Willow babbled, before she grabbed the shoulders of both men and teleported down to the lobby – where Buffy and Cordelia were facing off like two Wild West gunfighters.

Well, that is, if they were female gunfighters and were wearing the latest fashion in name-brand clothing –

"Oh...I don't feel so good..." Willow gasped, before she fainted in Wesley's arms. Teleportation on that level along with passengers had left physically and magically exhausted. With Wesley grabbing one end and Giles grabbing the other, they quickly carried the witch over the lobby's couch. And perhaps somewhat tellingly, neither Buffy nor Cordelia even noticed.

"You've got a lot of nerve, coming into _**my **_house and trying to do the spoiled princess act on _**me!**_ Because in case you didn't notice, I don't automatically agree to do whatever you want," the Seer growled nastily.

"This has got nothing to do with you. Xander is coming back with us to England, and that's that," Buffy growled back.

"Oh really? I'm curious, when exactly did he agree to that? Because the goof told me that he was sticking around here for the foreseeable future, earlier today. And in this case, assuming stuff that way makes an ass out of you; but not me," Cordelia riposted.

"I don't believe you. Why the hell would Xander want to stay here? Oh, wait, let me guess. The same reason he ever dated you in the first place?" Buffy replied. "Newsflash: it didn't work out back then, it's not going to work out now!"

In the blink of an eye, Cordelia went from simmering anger to enraged fury. "Didn't anyone ever tell you? It _**would**_ have worked out between us, Buffy. If it hadn't been for outside interference, right now I'd be Xander's wife and the mother of his children. _**You're**_ the one Xander would have abandoned and forgotten long before now. Oh, wait, he did; I almost forgot! Wasn't there a certain meeting in Rome where you said you needed real men, and not wimps like him?"

Balling her fists in growing rage, Buffy lashed out, "Well, that's rich coming from _**you!**_ How many lousy, hurtful names did you call Xander, before and after you two broke up? Hell, how many were there during that, that _**insanity**_ that was you two hooking up together? So many that I lost count! Geez, at least Anya never treated him like that! And you know that you're just a substitute for her, right? A, a second-rate consolation prize-"

"You really are that desperate to convince yourself of that pathetic little fantasy, aren't you? Because I've been inside Xander's head, you idiot; I _**know**_ that that's not true," Cordelia interrupted coldly. "And you wanna hear the cold, harsh truth? If he was the same man back then that he is today...Xander wouldn't have gone rushing down into the Master's cave in order to save you from your own stupidity, Buffy. He would have forced Angel to help him take out the Master on that rooftop, and then simply recovered the body afterwards. For Joyce and Dawn's sake, that is!"

The red fog of rage descended like a thick veil over Buffy's eyes, and she might have done something she would have later regretted – had Giles, who had been listening to the venomous exchange with ever-increasing dismay while Wes was keeping an eye on Willow, not put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed tightly. { _What-?_ }

"Don't do it," Rupert said quietly, noting the clenched fists and boiling anger in his Slayer's eyes. "Xander will never forgive you if you attack Cordelia like that, Buffy. Most likely, neither will Dawn; so as your Watcher, I-I-I strongly advise you not to make an unnecessary enemy out of both of them. It, it wouldn't exactly help your standing as the head of European operations, either; I shouldn't need to remind you that you need to set an example for the other Slayers, a-after all."

There was no telling what might have happened, if Willow hadn't chosen that moment to groan loudly and recover consciousness on the couch. And then, a few seconds later, Spike rushed into the detective agency, carrying the spellbound Dawn in his arms and immediately shouting for Willow to 'fix' her.

Deciding to call it a draw for now, with a temporary truce going into effect and ending the current hostilities, Cordelia and Buffy joined the others around the couch; their concern for Dawn briefly putting all thoughts of Xander out of their minds.

It didn't really matter, anyway; Harris had his own priorities right at the moment –

* * *

**Abandoned factory basement, Los Angeles**

**Not long before midnight**

Xander stared dispassionately at the wire cage set up against the wall. Long ago, he suspected, when the factory was still in business, it would have held tools for the workers and other miscellaneous material. Now, though, all that the cage contained was one knocked out Ethan Rayne.

The Chaos mage groaned, finally come out of his stupor. His face hurt like hell as he muttered, "What the..."

"We need to talk, Ethan," Xander said, surprising Rayne with the use of his first name. "In fact, we got quite a lot to talk about."

"Meaning, old chap?" Ethan ad-libbed, using an old magical trick to focus and block out the pain. "Ah. Alexander Harris, isn't it? And just out of curiosity, didn't you have only one eye just now?"

"Nope. Eye-patch was just to make sure that spell of yours didn't work. Unfortunately for you, British man, you're kinda predictable with regards to that sort of thing," Xander replied.

"Ah, now, Mr. Harris – there's no need for that," Ethan said smoothly, as he finally got up off the floor. "Look, why don't you just let me out of here? I'm sure that we can work out some sort of mutually satisfactory-"

"It's been a _**long**_ week, Ethan, a long week of Mondays – and I am _**so**_ not in the mood for your bullshit," Harris cut him off, his expression now frigid. "Your soul is dying. You think the only way to save yourself is to travel back in time to before you fragmented it, and totally rewrite the history books. You were planning to bleed and possibly kill Dawn in order to pull that off, because she's the Key and the miracle ingredient necessary for the ritual. Am I wrong about any of that?"

"How did you know?" Ethan asked simply, dropping the pseudo-friendly act.

"I told you, it's been a long week. For me, anyway. Because that spell you were planning to do? It didn't work the way you wanted it to. You set up a time loop, pal, every sixteen hours it was Monday morning all over again. This is the fifth go-around, believe it or not; it's taken me this long to figure out what's going on, and finally put a stop to it."

"Oh, really?"

"Don't expect you to believe me, but ask yourself this. How did I know you'd be going after Dawn, and tonight of all nights? How did I know how to shield myself from that idiotic spell of yours? How did I know you had a gun, and that I had to knock you out cold straightaway with that baseball bat?" Xander held up the 9mm weapon he had confiscated earlier on. "Last time we met, you shot and killed me with this. I figure afterwards you did your ritual with Dawn, and then I woke up in my room at Cordelia's detective agency all over again. So you _**really **_should have listened to me, when I told you that your time travel stunt wasn't going to work. You wouldn't be here right now, for starters."

Ethan was suddenly worried, even though he didn't let any sign of it show on his face. He also decided to accept what he'd been told, at least on a provisional basis. "So what are you going to do, dear boy? Kill me in revenge for something I haven't even done, at least not in this timeline? You're not the type."

"That's debatable," Xander shrugged, recalling what Cordelia had told him about the killer instinct in his psyche, thanks to the remnants of the Vampire Xander from the Wish world. "Truth is I_** was**_ responsible for three people dying when that musical demon called Sweet showed up, but I've never killed anyone on purpose. Still – when you were hired to bring me out of my coma, did they tell you that doing that would send Cordelia back into Dreamland, and later kill her? Because I _**would**_ have shot you in the head and never lost a moment's sleep over it afterwards, if you'd succeeded in killing my girl back then."

"Ah. Of course. And no, my employer didn't tell me that, believe it or not," Ethan said frankly, briefly cursing Eve's memory.

"Oh, I believe you. Just like I'm sure it wouldn't have made any difference to you, even if you _**had**_ known," Xander replied. "Exactly how much time have you got left, anyway? Before your soul finally goes bye-bye?"

"Not long. Twenty-four hours, maybe as much as thirty-six," Rayne replied, not liking the new direction of the conversation.

"Then listen up; I'm gonna do you a favor." Xander came up to the cage and tossed the gun inside; watching as Ethan hastily picked it up and pointed it at him. Harris then said, "There's one bullet in there. I suggest you use it wisely."

"What do you mean?" the wizard demanded, rattling his cage with his free hand and discovering that he was effectively trapped inside. "And why did you give me my gun back?"

"You figure it out, Ethan. No one knows you're here. And you can scream for help all you want, no one's gonna hear you. So the way I figure it, you have two choices; one, you can kill me, and end up trapped in here all alone. And less than two days later, you'll become...what's the best word for it? Oh yeah, like my bud Mohamed would put it, a soulless abomination," Xander said candidly. "And once your carcass expires soon after, you'll cease to exist in every sense of the word. As for option number two, well, to sorta quote Dickens – 'tis a far, far better thing you'll do, than you've ever done before..."

"What? Do you honestly expect me to take my own life that way?!" Ethan exploded, finally lowering the gun as he stared at Xander in disbelief. The memory of an old conversation with Eve, where she had suggested killing himself in order to save his soul from oblivion, suddenly appeared in his mind – before Rayne mercilessly shoved it away.

"It's totally up to you, dude. Either way, you're going to die," Xander shrugged. He saw Ethan's face tighten up, but pressed on regardless. "There's no way you're gonna get out of that cage alive. And even if you did, there's no way you'd get anywhere near Dawn again, not in the little time you've got left. Wouldn't be any point, anyway – you'd just screw up, and trap us all in that damn time loop again."

Harris looked Ethan right in the eyes. "Like I said, choice is yours. But whatever you decide to do? Hasn't been a pleasure knowing you."

Xander turned his back on the Chaos mage and headed for the basement stairs. For a moment, he wondered whether doing Ethan this sort of 'favor' was the right thing to do –

Nah. Screw it. Even if his soul was predestined for Hell thanks to all the bad shit he'd done, including killing Riley in cold blood, that was still better than the other option. Cordelia had definitely had a point when she had stated in one of her letters that it was more important to save souls, rather than lives. Besides, if Ethan hadn't done what he did, Xander knew that he and Cordelia wouldn't have ended up where they were now –

The seconds ticked by, each one worse than the last. Harris could not help anticipating being shot and killed, and he knew that if that happened, there would be no do-over afterwards. Dead meant dead and _**gone**_, this time around. But there was no reason to stay and tempt Ethan to open fire, once the man realized he couldn't talk his way out of this.

{ _I want to live,_ } Xander suddenly realized as he walked, fully expecting Rayne to shoot him in a fit of uncontrolled rage. { _I don't want to die, because I actually have something to live for now. Hell of a time to realize what that mystical trance spell during the previous go-around really means... _}

Much to his surprise, nothing actually happened as Xander finally opened the basement door and started climbing up the stairs. He could feel Ethan's eyes tracking him, until the door was shut behind him. As Harris reached halfway up the stairs, he heard the muffled sound of a gunshot – and he assumed that the dying wizard had made the only choice he could, to avoid his upcoming fate of complete non-existence.

"Hope you save me a seat by the fire, Ethan. Odds are I'm going to need it."

To Be Concluded...


	15. Coda

See Part One for disclaimer and details. Hello, and welcome to the final chapter of the story! It's been fun writing this fanfic, but now we have to move on. But before we do, a big thank-you must go to our beta readers Ironbear and Greywizard – without whom the story wouldn't have been half as good as it was. In addition, we would like to thank everyone who sent in reviews and feedback for this story! In reverse order of appearance:

ElDani, the DragonBard, Bobboky, WinterRain36, bigfan22, Wonderbee31, capet, Quathis, mobulis, red-jacobson, Rake1810, Guest, highlander348, TheNStorm, Marcus S. Lazarus, Twilight Warrior 627, poe1911, Alkeni, KingOfCretins, lordamnesia, kindleflame5, alebrewer, Dagda06117032, Darksnider05, Chunk127, David Fishwick, syed, studyofchaos, uo-chou, Erica and anyone else we've missed!

Okay, here is the finale/epilogue for your reading pleasure. We hope you'll like it! And please don't be shy about telling us what you think, good or bad…

* * *

**Part Fifteen: Coda**

**Cordelia's office, Angel Investigations**

**June 22****nd****, 2004**

Cordelia stared at Xander in disbelief. "You've _**got**_ to be shitting me, right?"

"Nope, no shit," Harris shrugged. He had just told Cordelia everything, and wasn't surprised by her instinctive response to his story. His adventures over the past week or so _**did**_ sound pretty unbelievable, after all, given that they had never happened for anyone else. "It all took place that way, believe it or not."

The Seer stood up from behind her desk, and came closer to stare Xander directly in his eyes. "Do you honestly expect me to believe a whopper like that, dweeb? What, do I look that stupid to you?"

"I figure there's no way I can answer that question without getting my ass kicked, Cor, so I better plead the Fifth for my own safety."

"Grrrf! Auughh," Cordelia growled. "All right, just for the sake of argument – if this isn't a totally lame and tasteless joke, and it all happened the way you said it did? Why tell _**me?**_"

Xander shrugged. "Because unlike everyone else, I thought you deserved to know. Well, okay, Riley's wife and son also deserve to know, but not the entire story I've told you. And because I'm gonna be staying here and fixing up your building, at least for a while, and I didn't want to start off by keeping secrets from you. Because the last time that happened? You eventually ended up with that rebar through your stomach."

Cordelia almost choked for a moment, forcing down the bad memories from high school. "You're really not kidding, are you?"

"Nope, as a matter of fact, he's not."

Both Xander and Cordelia whirled around to see Whistler standing near the door to the office. The balance demon waved hello and said, "Hi there. Been a while, huh?"

"What do _**you**_ want?" Harris and Chase said at the same time, before looking at each other in surprise.

"Needed to talk to you kids, orders from the Powers. And by the way, Harris? Job well done with that Ethan Rayne guy," Whistler said, before looking around the office. He glanced at Cordelia, "You got a mini-fridge around here somewhere, doll? 'Cause I could do with a brewski."

"You could do with learning some manners, and knocking on the door if you want to come into my office. Next time, I'll treat you as an unwelcome trespasser," Cordy threatened him.

"So what did you want to talk to us about?" Xander asked, noting how the Messenger took a couple of steps back after hearing his ex-girlfriend's threat.

Whistler shrugged. "Pretty sure you already know this, pal; but the Powers were actually moved by your arguments while you were in the Higher Realms, and they also didn't want the Vision Girl to die because of what one of their own did. That's part of why they told me to tell you that you'll be needed around here-"

"Forget it. They may have helped me save Cordelia's life, but I'm not gonna put myself under the control of those people like Angel did," Xander cut him off at once.

"Nah, kid, this isn't about that. 'Cause you may be a lot of things, but you're not a Champion, capital C. Not like your wife here," Whistler gestured towards to Cordelia.

"She's not my wife," Xander said automatically, at the exact same time the Seer said, "I'm not his wife!"

"Whatever. Would-have-been wife, anyway," the Messenger brushed that aside. He said to Cordelia, "As for you, kiddo; you have been the talk of the Higher Realms lately. You remember back when your soul ditched its body, and that Skip character took you to the astral plane?"

"You mean when he demonized me on my birthday? Sure. What of it?" Cordelia asked uncomfortably, feeling Xander's right hand clasp her left and briefly smiling at him for it.

"Oh, come on. Don't tell me you actually believed that 'half demon' crap he sold you on?" Whistler looked astonished. "Seriously. You honestly think that the Higher Beings would let anyone like _**that **_Up There? Nothing demonic is allowed to get as high as you did, that heavenly dimension which Skippy ascended you to. Everything he told you, it was all smoke and mirrors to cover up the fact that you got infused with some of Jasmine's essence!"

"Huh?" Cordelia's eyes went wide at hearing that.

"Yup. Higher being powers, no fooling. Like healing, that soul colonic thing, and that demon-killing white light show you've done three or four times over the years. Last time was when you fried that army which was out to kill Rat Boy and his buddies, right?" the Messenger asked.

"Right. So...I'm not part-demon? I never was?" Cordelia asked, looking amazed.

"Nope. I mean, transformation into a demon, yeah; but DNA incompatibilities don't allow you to just be 'part' demon," Whistler shrugged. "And half-breeds like your friend Doyle don't count."

"Unbelievable. So I'm actually part-human and part...higher being?" Cordelia asked slowly.

"Yeah. Well, sorta. It's complicated," the Messenger shrugged helplessly.

"Question. Why did the Powers ever let things get that far? Letting the visions slowly kill Cordy, I mean, until she had no choice other than let that Skip guy do what he did. The PTBs refused to answer when I asked them that, so I was wondering if you knew," Xander said, seeing Cordelia struggling to reconcile what their unexpected visitor had just told her.

Whistler had dodged that question from Wesley way back when, but for some reason, he didn't do so again now. He told Xander, "Freedom of choice, kid. That's their highest law, remember? At any time after she got cursed with the visions, your girl could have visited the Conduit or the Oracles or whatever channels she could access, and ask for them to be removed. Since she didn't? The Powers came to the conclusion that she wanted to keep them. Which, correct me if I'm wrong, is pretty much the actual truth?"

"Sort of," Cordelia mumbled, recalling some of her choices back then with a slight grimace.

"Anyway, getting back on topic. The higher being powers Skip gave you? He set it up so that you couldn't directly control them, as part of Jasmine's master plan. Well, not really anyway, even if you have used them to kick major demon ass on occasion. But here's the thing; the Powers are offering you the opportunity to get them completely under your control, in return for becoming their Champion in this realm. _**Or**_ they can totally remove them, make you Josephine Normal again. It's totally up to you."

"What?!" Cordelia gasped.

"What's the catch?" Xander demanded straightaway.

"No catch, apart from being a Champion full-time; which is pretty much what the cutie was doing with her life, anyway," Whistler shrugged.

"What do you think?" Cordy asked her former boyfriend, ignoring the 'cutie' wisecrack. "I mean, you've met the Powers, but I haven't – can they be trusted?"

"I guess," Xander shrugged, thinking it over. "I mean, they may be empowered assholes, but they're not lying empowered assholes. Not that I could tell, anyway."

"You _**do**_ realize that they're listening to us right now up there in the Higher Realms, don't you? Kid, you're not doing yourself any favors calling them that," Whistler said cautioningly, shaking his head.

"Freedom of choice, right? Then I choose to call 'em as I see 'em, and describe the Powers for what they are," Xander shrugged, before looking upwards. "And if you people have a problem with that, suck on it!"

"All right, fine. I'll do it," Cordelia abruptly made her decision, causing both males to look at her in surprise. "Gimme full control of my powers, and I'll be their Champion. Just as long as the PTBs don't try to screw me over somehow, they won't have anything to worry about."

"You sure about this?" Xander asked, looking concerned.

"Yeah. Like he said – it's pretty much what I was gonna do with my life, anyway," Cordelia shrugged. "Besides, I'm sure I don't want to go back to being the powerless old Cordelia Chase I was in high school. That's not who I am, not anymore."

"Okay, then, brace yourself," Whistler said, closing his eyes.

The next moment, the brunette glowed white, blindingly bright. Cordelia floated up off the ground roughly fifteen inches, until the white light vanished and she slowed returned to the ground.

"Whoa, that was a rush," she said dazedly, as Whistler vanished without her noticing.

"Hey, you okay?" Xander asked in concern, before realizing the Messenger had gone.

"I'm fine," Cordelia suddenly giggled like a schoolgirl, feeling totally stoked. She could now control her ability to heal and float, had some enhanced strength (albeit not Slayer level), plus she could now use her white light powers at will to kill evil demons. The young woman wasn't certain how she knew all that, exactly, but she was nonetheless sure of her newfound knowledge.

"What the hell, doofus, I'm _**better**_ than fine!"

* * *

**A higher dimension, somewhere Up There **

**The same time**

It looked like an ocean beach, but it wasn't. Such things existed strictly in the lower dimensions, after all. Still, that was what it looked to human eyes, had any been present to see it – so for convenience, it will be so described.

Whistler stood alone on the sandy seashore, waiting – when a chaos monster, a primordial goddess of the ocean, rose up from out of the waves. Looking up at the towering being before him, the Messenger said, "We can't possibly have a meaningful conversation this way. So, you wanna choose a different form? Human, preferably, but I'm not too fussy either way."

The sixty-foot serpent vanished, and the man known to Xander and the Scoobies as Shaman Bond appeared on the beach. "Will this do, squire?"

Whistler groaned. "That accent is gonna drive me nuts. Ya got anything else?"

Shaman shrugged, and transformed into the girl named Kikuyu – she who had taught Xander her native language, during his time in Africa. "How about this?"

"Uh, what? Sorry, my Swahili sucks, so keep on going. If you can, of course."

Kikuyu transformed into Melissa, Xander's old nurse. "Last choice."

The balance demon shrugged. "Okay, good enough. And you know that my bosses aren't pleased with you for violating the Accords and manifesting in the human plane over the past year or so, right?"

'Melissa' laughed. "I was present long before your Accords, little demon. Long before your Powers as well, and the cosmic fires which gave birth to them. I am Tiamat, Goddess of the Primal Chaos. Your so-called rules mean nothing to me. So remember your place, before I grow annoyed with you."

Whistler gulped, but forced himself to keep going. "Sure, no problem. But before we get down to business, I gotta ask. Why the intervention? And why Harris?"

"Why not? And as for the second part, I was attracted by the Chaos energy within him. Besides, the Spirit Guides warned me that my worshipper – whose soul tasted utterly delicious, by the way – would unleash forces he could not control, in attempting to go back in time and renege on his offering. Chaos on that scale did not please me, or your Powers."

"I guess. So, releasing the Seer's full powers to her direct control. What do you get out of it, convincing the Powers to make that offer?" Whistler asked politely.

Melissa – no, Tiamat – shrugged. "Since all the new Slayers have weighed in on the side of good, evil has started to make new inroads to Earth to restore the balance again. I consider it advantageous putting a new player on the board, to maintain that balance."

The Messenger frowned. "Sounds good in theory. But I'm pretty sure the Powers won't stand for you controlling their Champion and her people. Especially Harris."

"Who said anything about controlling them? They will do what they will, because that is their nature," the chaos goddess smiled. "And I thought you would have known better, after what happened with your own protégé..."

Whistler immediately looked chagrined at the mention of Angel, as 'Melissa' vanished and Tiamat resumed her true, monstrous form out in the ocean waters – before she slowly sank beneath the waves, and vanished from sight.

* * *

**LAX International Airport, Los Angeles**

**Later that day**

Faith and Gunn watched the Boeing 747 containing Willow, Buffy and Giles take off, heading for London by way of New York.

"Been an intense couple of days, huh?" the ex-lawyer smiled at his girlfriend.

"Tell me about it," Faith groaned. "After lunch, I thought B and Queen C were gonna frickin' kill each other!"

"Well, at least Harris and Dawn managed to get 'em to neutral corners and then set up that whole peace summit deal. I have to admit, those two were impressive," Charles smirked, putting his arm around his girlfriend and guiding her away from the departure lounge window.

"Impressive, huh? And I don't impress you?" the Slayer asked, with a hint of danger in her tone.

{ _Uh-oh!_ } Charles knew he had to distract Faith with something fast. "You sure do. And hey, I'd like to impress you. So how about we hop a flight to Vegas, right here, right now?"

"What?" Faith jerked back to look at her boyfriend in surprise. "You serious?"

"Yeah. I mean, why not? Rondell can look after things for me on my end, just gotta give him a quick call to tell him the situation. You can do the same for Wes, not like he's short of Slayers anymore. Far as I know, there's nothing major happening right now for us to worry about – so why not?"

{ _Yeah, why not,_ } Faith thought to herself, blissfully ignorant of having been trapped in that time loop for the past week or so. Something that, while not exactly apocalyptic, had still been nothing to dismiss lightly. { _I could do with a couple days' vacation, so why the hell not..._ }

"Okay. So, what, no luggage and shit? Just get on a plane, and head east to Nevada?" Faith asked, starting to grin.

"Yeah. We can buy whatever we need in Vegas," Gunn said confidently. "You with me?"

"Yeah," Faith said, deciding to live in the moment and pulling out her cell phone, the same way Gunn did. "Gimme thirty seconds, and I'm all yours."

* * *

**Angel Investigations, Los Angeles**

**June 30****th****, 2004**

{ _Unbelievable,_ } Dawn Summers thought to herself that evening, mentally grumbling as she climbed into the hot tub along with three Slayers. { _And here I thought tonight would just be a calm, quiet night, watching the premiere of _Spiderman 2_ at the local AMC theatre. Geez, can't you go __**anywhere**__ in L.A. nowadays without bumping into the undead?_ }

{ _Well, at least everything has more or less settled down after that Ethan Rayne guy tried to kidnap me the other week,_ } Dawn mentally sighed, as the jets of water soothed her semi-naked body. { _And I guess it's good that Buffy and I have more or less mended fences, after she broke up with the Immortal and Xander quit being such an ass about the guys she chooses to date. Never thought that Willow would stay in New York during their layover to go see Kennedy, though! She musta had some sorta epiphany, after that private talk Xander had with her. And as for Giles? Ugghh! He really needs to get laid, I just hope he can find someone over there in England who's interested..._ }

"I think Toby McGuire is kinda cute," one of the Chosen said, feeling the post-slaying rush that made her kind of hungry and horny.

"Yeah, but he's no Brad Pitt," another teenage Slayer pointed out.

"Still, kinda makes you think – you know, it just sucks how there aren't enough cute eligible guys around here," the third Slayer complained, her libido making her feel sexually frustrated.

"What about Andrew?" the first Slayer said.

The third Slayer rolled her eyes at her. "I said _**cute**_, remember? He doesn't count. And I'm not crazy enough to ever make a play for Gunn – Faith would claw my eyes out! Plus Angel and Spike have left town – one to the East Coast, and the other back to England. Mr. Wyndam-Pryce is off-limits, that whole fraternization thing. Sheesh, just about the only available guy is Xander Harris..."

"He is cute, isn't he? Golly gee, have you _**seen**_ that body while he's working on the crappily-built areas of the hotel?" the second Slayer giggled.

"Don't even think it," Dawn immediately warned her and the rest of them off. "From what I've seen, Cordelia's already planted a flag in his ass...and she doesn't like competition!"

* * *

**Penthouse suite, Angel Investigations**

**Half an hour later**

{ _Uggh! Augggh! Oh, God..._ } Cordelia thought to herself vaguely, unable to think clearly as she was flat on her back – and Xander's tool was pistoning in and out of her nether regions like a well-oiled machine. At long last.

{ _Oh, God. Don't, don't stop. Guh...don't you __**dare**__ stop, Harris, not until I c-c-come – or I'll f-f-freaking __**kill **__you!_ }

The evening had started out fairly normally, curiously enough. Talking about old times, and about each other's lives after high school had ended. The subject of their original destinies had remained taboo, as it had ever since that unpleasant conversation the day after Xander had woken up – until the Seer-slash-Champion had thought 'to hell with it' and asked him if they could talk about that particular subject.

"Okay," Xander had said, unexpectedly. "And before you ask why, I figure you're never gonna be happy 'til we do discuss it – so may as well get this over with, once and for all. What did you want to discuss, exactly?"

"Well, for starters, why are you being such an asshole about this?" Cordelia had demanded angrily.

"You wouldn't understand, Cor. Nobody can, really, apart from Spike."

"HUH? What does _**he**_ have that I don't, in order to understand how you feel about it?"

Xander had paused before saying, "He braced me about it before he left town, I'm pretty sure Dawn managed to talk him into it. That guy never could refuse her anything, when she did the quivering lip and hurt puppy eyes act. And when Spike asked, I just said one word: 'Drusilla'."

Cordelia had stared at him in confusion before saying, "Drusilla?"

"Yeah. Think about it, Cor. He was with her first, and they were together for a long time. He loved that crazy bitca, no matter how much of a high-maintenance chick she was. But then he loses her, after doing something his girl can't forgive him for – betraying her in the worst way imaginable. So then he moves on to another woman. Transfers his love to her – someone his ex had never liked or tolerated."

"So?"

"So, I asked Spike how he felt knowing that him falling for Buffy had been _**arranged**_ as part of someone else's master plan. How was he supposed to feel knowing that the Powers had altered his original destiny, which was to reconcile with Drusilla and stay at her side – 'til dust did 'em part?"

Cordelia had frowned before asking, "Huh. So what did Spike say, after you told him that?"

Xander had shrugged. "Nothing. He just turned around and left. I mean, what was there for him to say, after he suddenly understood exactly how I felt about my situation?"

Cordelia had gasped after seeing the parallels between the two men. After all, just substitute 'Cordelia, Xander and Anya' for 'Drusilla, Spike and Buffy', and 'Jasmine' for 'the Powers', and the series of events he'd described was more or less exactly the same...

"Oh dear God," she had said, gulping. "Is _**that**_ why you don't want to talk about the life we should have had together? All the manipulation? Damn it, Xander-"

"No, it's not that." Harris had put a finger to her lips. "Cordelia? I don't want to talk about it because the past is the past. And sure, we would have had a wonderful life together; kids, grandkids, and everything else. But like I said that day, we're _**not**_ that Xander Harris and Cordelia Chase. _**Our**_ future hasn't been written yet. And as far as I'm concerned, I want to create a future with you – and no other."

Well, naturally enough, that had led to kissing. And the kissing had led to groping, and the groping had quickly led to the bedroom, and the flying clothes had led to them currently being locked in mid-_ungh_ –

All without her putting on either the Pylean princess costume, or that Princess Leia golden bikini outfit she had bought in order to seduce him – if all else failed.

Cordelia's body started glowing with white light, as she scratched bloody claw marks down her lover's back even as he climaxed and exploded inside her. "Rarrrrgghhh! Oh, G-g-guh-God, Xander!"

Her body glowed even brighter, the white light streaming out the window into the darkness of the night. It actually took a while for Xander and Cordelia to notice, as they were both totally caught in the grip of the little death of orgasm.

Whistler watched the light show from the street below and muttered to himself, "Man, I do _**not**_ want to still be down here, when they find out her powers make her extra-fertile..."

THE END


End file.
